


Make You Better

by Catsparrow



Series: What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Bruce Banner, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Bruce Banner Feels, Cuddling & Snuggling, Explicit Sexual Content, Fix-It, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Natasha and Clint being awesome friends, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Science Bros, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Touch-Starved, lots of hugs for everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsparrow/pseuds/Catsparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm in charge of my life, I am a competent adult. Clint Barton almost laughed out loud. He was a starving, striving boy blindly thrashing his way through life and his luck was running out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We're Not So Starry-Eyed Anymore

OK, so this looked bad. Like really bad.

 

A complete clusterfuck.

 

_ I'm in charge of my life, I am a competent adult _ . Clint Barton almost laughed out loud. He was a starving, striving boy blindly thrashing his way through life and his luck was running out.

 

Everything was on fire.

 

Being a freelance assassin for hire was turning into a nightmare. Actually, it had always been a nightmare but Clint stupidly thought he had a grip on it.

 

_ Dummy! Who would ever think you had a grip on anything? _

 

His cover blown and people all around him, civilians and gangsters alike, flailing and screaming; Clint decided maybe it was time to quit.

Suddenly, a fleet of helicopters descended on the panicking crowd. Black SUVs roared into sight, forming a loose barrier around the gangsters.

 

Clint turned to bolt, hoping he could make a clean getaway but of course, the driver of the nearest SUV stepped out, gun drawn right at him.

 

“Don't move please.”

Clint put his hands up.

“You're going to need to come with me.”

Clint tilted his head to the side and put on his best confused expression, gesturing that he couldn't hear him. It did not amuse the driver, his eyes hidden underneath dark sunglasses.

“I know you're an expert lip reader, Barton. I'm not going to hurt you. I want to make you an offer.”

 

Clint raised an eyebrow. “What kind of offer?”

 

It was a good deal that Sunglasses presented him. After Clint was transported to whatever headquarters all of the helicopters and SUVs worked in, Sunglasses introduced himself as Agent Phil Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D., an organization Clint had only heard whispers of until now.

 

“We could use a highly skilled assassin like yourself. Your skills in marksmanship alone are impressive but it was the lip reading that made my boss want to bring you in. We think you could be an excellent agent, if you decide to work with us.”

“If I decide?” Clint asked.

“We're not going to force you if it's not what you want. If you want to continue doing freelance work, we won't stop you. But you seem like a man who thinks he has a lot to atone for and we can help with that, if you let us.”

 

Sunglasses, as Clint was still calling Agent Coulson in his head, seemed sincere enough. He looked pretty bland like an accountant. Clint figured that was Sunglasses' special skill; looking harmless.

"A lot of people want me dead. Is there anything you can do about that?" 

Agent coulson smiled. "If you join with S.H.I.E.L.D., I can guarantee none of those people will bother with you again." 

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. proved to be right in the protection department. Clint's many enemies pissed off after word traveled through the grapevine that Barton worked for the bogeymen now. He started to feel like he had a real purpose, like it mattered what he did. It was simultaneously comforting and stressful. 

Agent Coulson turned out to be a real ally in the organization. He met with Clint often during his first few weeks and the weekly meetings became a regular occurrence even after Clint's 90 day probationary period ended. They met once a month and Coulson would bring coffee and pastries from a local cafe they both liked. They discussed what went wrong and worked well in their missions and Coulson was always open to suggestions for improvement. 

It didn't take long for the two of them to become one of the most efficient teams at S.H.I.E.L.D, if not the most efficient. 

It also didn't take too long for Clint to fall in love. 

 

The first and pretty much only time Clint went against Coulson's direct orders was in Russia. He was supposed to kill a dangerous assassin rumored to be working for the KGB and the Red Room. He saw the desperate look in her eyes and turned off his communicator.

 

Clint figured Coulson would be angry with him but the quiet, simmering disappointment he was met with when they got back to headquarters was much worse. 

"What were you thinking?" Coulson gripped the table, knuckles white. 

"I evaluated the situation and I made a different call."

"A different call that involved putting yourself and your entire team in danger?!?"

"She deserved a second chance!"

Coulson rubbed his eyes. "And that was your call to make? Without consulting anyone?"

"You gave me a second chance. I thought I should pay it forward." 

"You can't go off mission like that without saying anything!"

Clint gritted his teeth. "You never needed me to consult with you before I went off mission any other time." 

"You turned off your communicator, Clint! I thought she killed you!" Coulson shouted, his voice echoing in the small space. Clint froze. Coulson sank down into a chair, his face pressed into his hand. 

"You can't do that again. I need to know what you're planning." 

Clint nodded, his words stuck in his throat.

Coulson finally met his eyes and Clint almost flinched at the raw desperation and exhaustion in his eyes, 

"Promise me."

Clint nodded. "I promise." He murmured.

Phil sighed and rose to his feet, his face a calm mask once again. "Let's go talk to our new asset." 

  
  


For a while, Natasha didn't talk to anyone unless they were a superior agent asking her a work related question. The rest of the time she spoke to no one and mostly hid in her S.H.I.E.L.D. issued dorm room. It had it's own bathroom but otherwise was barely larger than a closet. 

Clint offered to help her apartment search but Natasha just shook her head. 

He spent a lot of time with her when he wasn't busy with missions. They didn't do much, just sat in silence and read or watched a mindless TV show. Or rather Clint watched a mindless TV show and Natasha read her book and rolled her eyes at him. 

She gradually warmed up to Coulson too after he lended her books to read and brought her coffee when they had meetings together. He never pushed her to talk if she didn't want to; Coulson could pretty much wait anybody out. The three of them became the most efficient active S.H.I.E.L.D. team, almost able to communicate completely silently to each other during a mission. Clint never felt more at home than during the years they all worked together.

 

Natasha and Clint trained together a few times every week without fail. During a sparring session about six months after they started working together, Natasha finally called Clint out on his bullshit. 

"So you and Coulson huh? How's that going?" Natasha queried casually as she knocked Clint to the mat with a blow to his leg. 

"We've collaborated for like three years on missions with an almost 100% success rate so I'd say pretty well." Clint replied as he attempted to knock Natasha down with a kick to her ankle on his way to his feet. 

Natasha dodged his kick and swiped at his ankle with her leg, knocking him back to the mat. 

"Quit playing dumb, Clint. You know what I mean." 

"No actually I don't." Clint kicked at her other leg and Natasha jumped out of his reach.

"You're in love with him." 

Clint blinked, flinging himself off the mat, aiming a blow for her stomach. Natasha dodged him again, grabbing his arm and twisting it."I-what-no-he's my boss-why would I love him, that's stupid. Where would you get that idea?" Clint tried to hit her with his free arm but she easily swatted him away. "Good people, truly good to their core people, don't come into your life often. When they do, you do your absolute best to keep them there." 

"Ok, Tasha sure right." Clint rolled his eyes.

Natasha twisted his arm harder. 

"Don't fuck around." 

Clint nodded furiously. "Alright, I got it Tasha. Let me up." 

Natasha let go of his arm and he rubbed it. 

"Want to get coffee?" He asked, ignoring the feelings Tasha's words had stirred in him. He was not in love with Coulson. Of course not. She was just imagining things. 

 

The next day Clint and Coulson had their usual coffee date. Coulson handed him a chocolate croissant, his favorite and they discussed their newest mission. They were supposed to start the following week. Coulson went over all of the precautions in place for Clint and how they would handle each potential scenario. Clint remembered when he had told Coulson how much he'd appreciated this discussion and how Coulson always did it after that, buying Clint a coffee and answering all of his questions. He was the first person who had ever listened with 100% sincerity to Clint's thoughts and suggestions. Even if they didn't use any of them, Coulson always made sure to ask. Coulson knew Clint's favorite things and never forgot his birthday. 

Clint collected all of these variables and attempted to piece them together.

 

It took two more months for Clint to knock on Tasha's door late one Friday night and blurt out when she opened the door: "You were right!"

"Of course I am but which particular thing am I right about?" She smirked, letting him into her room. 

“Coulson. Phil… I.. do…you know...have the feeling and all.” Clint stuttered, rubbing his arm and staring at the floor.

“The first step is admitting you have a problem.” Natasha pulled a bottle of vodka out from her desk drawer. Clint sat down on her bed.

“Vodka, really? Isn’t that a little overdone?”

She poured a shot and handed it to him. “Drink.” Natasha sat down next to him and knocked back her own shot. 

“Have you said anything to him?”

“No, of course not! I figured I could ignore the problem until it went away.”

“You're an idiot.”

“Yes.” Clint affirmed. “File that under things I already knew. Besides, he doesn’t feel the same way about me. It would make things weird between us and I can’t do that. I value our partnership too much for that.”

Tasha patted his arm. “I wouldn’t be so sure Phil doesn’t feel the same way about you.”

“How can you be sure though?”

“I’m a spy. It’s my job to be sure.”

“Technically you’re a specialist.”

Tasha rolled her eyes. “You two, I swear. One day I'll just lock you both in a closet.”

“Not the utility closet. It smells like that horrible cleaner they use in the men's bathroom.”

“At least think about telling him or if you’re not going to, maybe tone down the puppy dog faces you keep giving him when you think nobody’s looking.”

“I don’t have a puppy dog face!”

“Yes, Clint. Yes you do.” 

They spent the rest of the night arguing and polishing off the bottle of vodka. They fell asleep curled around each other and Clint had to crawl through the air duct the following morning to avoid detection by junior agents. He didn’t want to encourage the S.H.I.E.L.D. rumor mill. He managed to get back to his own room in time to shower and get dressed for his weekly coffee meeting with Phil. Coulson, Clint reminded himself. It’s Coulson. 

  
  
  


It took one more year after that (and many more late night drunken confessions to Tasha) for Clint to tell Phil how he felt. 

It was of course during a mission that was quickly going south. Phil was undercover as a personal financial consultant for a CFO  that was running an inhuman trafficking ring, primarily with women and children; selling them to the highest bidder to do whatever they wanted with them. 

Phil was tied up in a basement being tortured and Clint could barely breathe. Natasha was sneaking in to retrieve him and Clint was in charge of distraction. 

Clint’s focus narrowed to the people surrounding Phil, an arrow notched and aimed right at the main dude’s head. He fired and the arrow brought the guy down. The rest of them whipped out their guns to fire at Clint but they were too slow. Clint took them all out and dropped down from his hiding place in the rafters, running straight for Phil and Natasha. Phil leaned on Natasha’s shoulder, barely able to stand. Blood dripped from a gash in his head and there was a bullet  in his shoulder. 

Natasha called for a S.H.I.E.L.D. medic and Clint ducked under Phil’s other arm, offering his support. Phil sagged between the two of them, on the verge of passing out. 

“The ambulance is on its way, Coulson. Hang in there.” Clint pleaded as they stumbled out of the warehouse. 

“The….people...are...ok?” Phil slurred.

“Yes, everyone’s safe. We got them all out.”

“Good...job..team.” Phil passed out as the ambulance roared up. 

The medics dashed out of the truck and extracted Phil from Clint and Natasha to relocate him to a stretcher. 

Clint insisted on riding with them. The EMT’s let him in and Natasha jumped into a S.H.I.E.L.D. van to follow behind. 

The medics checked Phil’s heart rate and breathing, determining that both were still there, he was still alive. They hooked him up to an IV and starting cleaning the large gash in his head. Clint was pretty sure Phil would need stitches.

 

When they got to the hospital, doctors ran out to meet them and rolled Phil into surgery to remove the bullet still lodged in his shoulder. 

Clint installed himself in the waiting room, pacing back and forth until Natasha arrived. She guided him to a chair and sat next to him, his hand squeezing hers in a death grip. After what felt like hours of waiting, the doctor came out to tell them the surgery was a success. Phil was sleeping off the anesthesia and they could go in to see him. 

They walked into his room and Phil was lying in the bed, asleep. Clint ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it gently off of his forehead. 

Natasha stayed for a few hours and tried to get Clint to leave and come back in the morning. 

“You go ahead, Tasha. I won’t be able to sleep away from him.”

She kissed him on the forehead, kissed Phil too, and made Clint promise to call her if he needed anything. 

Clint held Phil’s hand, curled against the railing around Phil’s bed, using his own arm as a pillow.“Goodnight, Phil. Love you.” he whispered and closed his eyes. 

  
  


Clint was awakened the next morning by fingers gently running through his hair. 

He opened his eyes to Phil smiling at him. 

“Phil, you’re awake!” 

“Is everyone safe?”

Clint glanced at his watch. “Everyone’s safe. Tasha’s helping them get back to their families and/or find places to stay.” 

Phil relaxed. “Good. How long was I out?”

“It’s morning so like 16 hours. You were in surgery for a while.”

Phil glanced down at his shoulder. “Ah, now I remember. That’s going to be a fun recovery.”

Phil went to move his hand from Clint’s hair but Clint grabbed his wrist. 

“Are you alright, Clint?”

Clint swallowed. “They tortured you and shot you.” His voice shook and his grip on Phil’s wrist tightened. “I...I couldn’t...I thought they were going to kill you.” 

Phil gently scratched Clint’s head. “They didn’t. I’m right here, Clint.”

“Phil, I...I….” Clint took a deep breath. “I love you.” 

Phil froze, his fingers still in Clint’s hair. Clint let go of his wrist. 

“I’m sorry, I just...you were almost killed by those men and I thought you would be dead before I could tell you how I felt and I probably just fucked up our friendship and I’m really sorry but I just-” Phil pressed his hand to Clint’s lips. 

He smiled at Clint. “I love you, too.”

Clint grinned and kissed Phil’s fingers, wrapping his hand around Phil’s. Natasha came by to check on them and found Clint curled up in Phil’s bed, sound asleep. Phil was reading a newspaper, arm wrapped around Clint’s shoulder, his fingers tracing patterns against Clint’s skin. 

She smiled, waving at Phil, and handing him a coffee. She put a coffee on the table for Clint and sat down in the other chair. 

They read their respective reading materials in silence for a while until the doctor came with the discharge paperwork for Phil. 

  
  


Phil, Natasha, and Clint all got a week off work to rest and relax. Clint stayed with Phil in his apartment to help him recover. They spent most of the time watching movies and making out. Cint’s need to keep a hand on Phil made him antsy. 

“I’m fine,Clint.” Phil shrugged his hand off but when it returned less than five minutes later, Phil laced their fingers together and didn't let go. Clint nuzzled his neck, pressing kisses against his skin, and soon Clint was on his knees in front of Phil, his hands on Phil’s thighs with Phil’s fingers in his hair. Phil came with a cry of “I love you!”

Clint tried not to think of what would happen when they returned to work. He knew that Fury would come down hard on both of them for the unprofessional turn their relationship had taken.

Phil insisted that he would just ask Fury for a transfer but Clint knew there was no other voice he could handle in his ear on a mission than Phil’s. 

“We can’t do this.” Clint murmured against Phil’s shoulder as they lay curled up in bed on the last day of their vacation. “If you transfer, I’ll never see you because we’d both be on different missions all the time. If you don’t, we’d see each all the time but we couldn’t be together.”

Phil sighed. “Neither choice is ideal.” 

“Or we just hide it.” 

“Do you really think we can hide a relationship from Fury? He’ll figure it out in one day and we’ll be transferred to bases on opposite sides of the world.”

“It would be a fun challenge.” 

Phil laughed. “I’ll bet you a hundred dollars Fury figures it out within one work day.”

“And I’ll bet you that our effectiveness in the field can be applied to clandesdine sex in utility closets.” 

Phil rolled his eyes. “I am not having sex in a S.H.I.E.L.D. closet.”

“Awww, come on. Where’s your sense of fun?”

“Somewhere far from those utility closets.”

Clint snaked a hand between Phil’s legs. “Is it here?”

Phil squirmed. “I don’t know, maybe if you keep doing that it will come back.”

Clint smirked and put his attention into making Phil come as many times as he could handle before morning. 

 

They went back to work the next day. After a quick blow job in the apartment, Phil kissed Clint and headed to work. Clint usually got to work about an hour after Phil so he followed his usual schedule and meandered into headquarters, heading straight for the archery range which is what he usually did first after a vacation. 

He practiced for an hour and then went in search of Natasha. They had a briefing scheduled soon for their next mission. She’d finally moved out of the S.H.I.E.L.D. issued dorm room into an apartment. Clint had visited it on a few brief occasions and it had as much personality as a hotel room. 

Clint found Natasha sipping coffee with Phil in the cafeteria. He grabbed a coffee and wandered over to join them. 

“Hey favorite people, how were your vacations?” 

“Peachy.” Natasha replied, a faint, fond smile on her face. Clint made a note to tease her about it later. 

“Very relaxing.” Phil murmured, sipping his coffee. “How was yours?”

“A little boring, I think.” Clint smirked, winking at Natasha. “Nothing to shoot, you know.”

Phil grinned. “I forgot your interests are limited to archery and caffeine.”

“Hey, I like more than arrows and coffee. Dogs are pretty neat too.”

“Didn’t you adopt that stray dog that kept hanging around your building?” Natasha asked. 

“Oh, yeah Pizza Dog!”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Pizza dog?”

Clint shrugged. “He likes Pizza.” 

Phil coughed into his coffee and Natasha smirked at the both of them. 

 

To both Phil and Clint’s surprise, they managed to make it through the day without arousing suspicion. It wasn’t until two weeks went by that Clint realized maybe he was actually right. He and Phil worked so well together and Phil was so good at restraint that no one besides Natasha ever found out. Clint was sure that plenty of people had suspicions but Fury seemed to let it slide, maybe because he respected Phil too much. Clint could never be sure. 

 

Fury assigned Clint and Phil to tesseract duty in New Mexico. After the Thor incident, they aren’t taking any more chances with 0-8-4’s. Clint found a perfect place in the rafters to perch and watch everything happening below. Phil was busy all day monitoring progress but they both had time in the evening to hang out together. Phil usually made dinner and they ate together, watching a movie or a silly reality TV show. Later, they kissed and made each other come and slept curled up next to each other. Clint had to hold onto Phil while they slept. He settled for their fingers entwined since Phil got twitchy when Clint clung to him like a barnacle. 

  
  


They camped outside sometimes in the desert outside of the S.H.I.E.L.D facility.

“I haven’t camped this much since boy scouts.” Phil announced, getting comfortable in his sleeping bag. Clint had his own sleeping bag positioned next to him but for the moment had wedged himself into Phil’s extra large one and curled up against him, head resting on Phil’s chest, their fingers laced together as Phil used his other hand to point up at the sky and name all of the visible constellations. 

“Why am I not surprised you were in Boy Scouts?” Clint chuckled. 

“My family was involved for decades. My dad was in the scouts and so was his dad. After they kind of kicked me out for being gay, no one in my immediate family kept up with it anymore.”

“Ugh, they didn’t deserve you anyway! I bet you were the best at wilderness survival. And making food with those portable burners right?”

Phil laughed, his breath stirring Clint’s hair. “I could make a mean s’more.”

Clint smiled and lifted his head off of Phil’s chest so he could lean up and kiss him. Phil cupped Clint’s jaw with one hand and kissed him slow and sweet. Clint broke their kiss to roll on top of Phil, straddling his waist. He leaned down again and lost himself in kissing Phil and rocking his hips gently against him. They made love under the stars and Clint drifted off to sleep, his body relaxed and warm with pleasure. Phil was already asleep next to him with his arms around Clint. 

He was awakened in the early morning hours to the feeling of Phil’s fingertips brushing and teasing him over the front of his sweatpants. Clint wished he could wake up every morning to sweet warmth rolling through his body, Phil’s hands on his skin, and whispered ‘I love you’s’ in his ear. 

 

And then one morning was cold and blue. Clint didn’t sleep. Phil didn’t hold his hand. He didn’t know why he kept thinking about Phil, who was that? Only the blue and the cold existed. If he followed orders, sometimes he was warm for a brief time. 

 

When he woke up, Clint was alone. 

 

***

  
  


He's benched. No missions for him until they're sure Loki is gone. Clint woke up every morning and did every stupid test S.H.I.E.L.D. forced on him to prove he wasn’t crazy and he didn’t say ‘I told you so’ to Fury when they all come back inconclusive. He knew they'll never be completely convinced. So he ran away.  It was Natasha who found him, breaking up a human trafficking ring in California. She helped him finish the job, get the children to safety and dragged him kicking and screaming back to New York.

  
  


The only thing resembling work that Clint still did was assemble with the other Avengers when they were needed. The others still trusted him. More importantly, Natasha still trusted him to get the job done. He leaned on her trust so hard for the first few months that he was sure he would have jumped off of a building freestyle and been glad to hit the concrete without it, without her. 

He told her every day that he loved her because he had to tell someone if Phil was gone. Tasha would call him ‘little hawk’ in Russian and rub his back. They spent a lot of time together for a while after New York. Clint knew she missed Phil almost as much as he missed him. 

  
  
  


After a particularly exhausting battle fighting Dr. Doom’s latest creations, Clint sank down onto the rubble and destroyed buildings. He tilted his back, gazing up at the sky black with smoke from all of the explosions. Exhaustion washed over him. The thought of hauling his body off the ground and dragging it anywhere, to the tower, to S.H.I.E.L.D. for debriefing or more conversations about Loki, to his shit hole of an apartment made Clint want to lay back down in the dirt and debris, fall asleep, and hopefully never wake up again. 

A hand rested on his shoulder and he squinted up to see Natasha towering over him. 

“You’re pretty tall, you know.” Clint murmured. 

Natasha reached a hand down to him and Clint grabbed her, allowing her to drag him off the ground. 

They went to back to Clint’s apartment to eat pizza and Clint couldn’t even look at the food. Natasha put her foot on the bottom rung of his chair. Clint gave up on pretending to eat and put his head on Natasha’s shoulder. She wrapped her arm around him and rubbed his back. 

“Little Hawk.” Clint heard Natasha’s whispered Russian rustling his hair. 

“You can’t keep going on like this; you are hurting yourself.”

“I’m fine.” Clint mumbled.

“Eventually Fury will send me on a mission again. I need to know you will be OK without me.”

Clint bit his lip to keep from begging her not to leave him. Instead, he muttered. “I’ll be fine, Tasha. Don’t worry about me.” 

Natasha frowned at him and reached a hand up to gently run her fingers through his hair. 

 

Days passed. All Clint wanted was a solid quality nap. The level of exhaustion he’d achieved deserved a prize or something. His bones ached from keeping himself upright. His eyes refused to stay open. He leaned against the wall of the archery range in Avengers tower, his head throbbing with a sleep deprivation headache. 

Three months since the Battle of New York. Three months since sleep. He wondered how much 

more he could take before it killed him. At this point, he almost looked forward to it. 

Phil wouldn’t have let him do this to himself. 

Even thinking his name made Clint’s heart lurch with pain. 

“Today sucks.” He murmured as he put his arrows back in the quiver. Every day sucked. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. had no use for him at all lately. Sometimes he helped train the new recruits when he had enough energy but most of the time he spent keeping up his skills and working out for no particular reason other than he had to do something or he’d go crazy. 

 

Fury wanted him with the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D. maybe not. Clint didn’t know how he felt about that at all. He hid in the vents all day above Phil’s office. It had been seven months since he died and Clint couldn’t get used to the new name on the door, the new art on the wall, the new pictures on the desk. Clint shimmied out of the vents one day when the new person in Phil’s office was away and looked at all of the pictures. One of what looked to be their parents, one of a girlfriend maybe, one with some friends. Phil had only one picture on his desk which Clint had stolen before they could clean out his office. It was of him and Phil gazing into each other’s eyes while Natasha photobombed, rolling her eyes at them.

 

Clint missed Phil’s arms. He missed Phil’s fingers entwined with his, palms pressed together. He missed wrapping Phil in his arms while he was cooking; Phil wearing one of his dorky aprons, sauteing vegetables, completely absorbed in his task. He missed walking up behind him, embracing him and rubbing his cheek against Phil’s back. He missed feeling safe and loved by someone who knew all the darkest parts of him and still stuck around. 

 

One morning about eight months after Loki, Natasha knocked on his door, earlier than usual for their daily training session. 

“Hey Tasha.” Clint opened the door for her and let her into his trash heap of an apartment. 

“Clint, I’ve been assigned.” Natasha announced, never one for beating around the bush. 

“Assigned? Fury’s sending you on a mission?” 

“Yes, it’s classified. He hasn’t even told me what he wants me to do so I guess I’ll find out.” Natasha shrugged. 

Clint opened his mouth to make a stupid joke but instead he murmured “Please come back.” 

Natasha hugged him. “I’ll always come back to you, Clint. Promise me you’ll be here.”

“I promise.” He choked out. 

She left to catch her plane and Clint sank down onto his couch. A few minutes later, his phone rang. Clint glanced at the caller ID. Why was Tony Stark calling him? 

“Hello?” 

“Hey Katniss! How’s Bed-Stuy treating you?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Fine. What’s up?”

“A little spider told me that you might need a place to stay for awhile.”

“What exactly did that annoying spider say?”

“It involved a lot of threats and mostly came down to ‘watch over Clint while I’m gone, he can’t be trusted to take care of himself.' So come stay in the tower. I have a lot of empty rooms I need to fill. You would be doing me a favor. Plus, Bruce needs more friends.”

Clint heard a snort in the background and guessed that it was Bruce. 

“I’ll think about it.”

And that was how a week later, Clint arrived at Avengers Tower with a suitcase and his bow. 


	2. All I wanted was a shimmer in your shine

  
  


After New York, Bruce gained the following things: 

  * his own apartment with an actual bed and a shower and everything
  * more than two outfits
  * access to a ridiculously well-stocked and supplied kitchen
  * access to a ridiculously well-stocked and supplied lab
  * ~~a friend confidant~~ a new lab partner
  * an archer
  * ~~an overwhelming feeling of safety~~



He didn’t know what to do with any of them. 

 

The tower was pretty empty at first. With Natasha away on her mission, Tony only recently departed for malibu with Pepper for some much needed R and R, Thor off the planet, and Steve established in DC, however much Tony tried to persuade him to move in, only Clint and Bruce occupied the tower. 

 

Bruce only recently had returned from his travels in Southeast Asia, particularly Cambodia where his medical resources were desperately needed and taken up semi-permanent residence. Without Tony to harass him daily, Bruce generally stayed quiet, preferring to work in his lab or hang out in the common area and read. He didn’t even know Clint was there until he’d been back for about two weeks and found him curled up completely under a blanket in the common area. 

Bruce skirted around the kitchen, attempting to make tea without waking Clint but the beeping of the electric kettle jolted him out of sleep. 

Clint sprang up, a knife in his hand, eyes scanning the room and landing on Bruce, frozen in place. Clint's shoulders relaxed and he lowered the knife.

"Sorry, I didn't realize anybody else was here." 

“Neither did I. Sorry about the kettle. Would you like some tea?”

“Sure.” Clint retrieved his blanket from the floor and folded it up. 

“What kind would you like?” Bruce asked, bringing down his box of loose leaf tea from a cabinet. 

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“Chai Rooibos?” 

“Sure!” Clint shimmied onto a stool in the kitchen, watching Bruce pack loose tea leaves into strainers and rest them in mugs of hot water. 

“Ooh, look at you all fancy with your tea strainers!”

“Fancy, that’s definitely me,” Bruce slid onto a stool opposite Clint. “How did Tony finally persuade you to move in?”

“Natasha persuaded Tony to persuade me that it was in my best interest.” 

“It probably didn’t take much effort on her part; Tony’s trying to collect the entire set.”

“Really? I thought you were the only one he was really trying to persuade.”

Bruce chuckled. “No, he has big dreams. I saw him eyeing spiderman longingly on the news the other day.”

“It wouldn’t take much to get Peter you know. He practically worships Tony.”

“Don’t tell him that.” Bruce replied, taking an experimental sip of his tea. 

They sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a while, enjoying their tea. Clint liked the combination of spices, sweet with a kick. 

“Where’d you go after New York? If you don’t mind me asking?” Clint said quietly, gently breaking the silence. 

“Cambodia.” Bruce answered. 

Clint raised his eyebrows. “Whoa, pretty far then.”

“Yeah.” Bruce sighed and took a sip of tea. “People needed my help.”

“Tony didn’t try to bribe you to stay.”

“Oh, he definitely did. He didn’t let me leave until I agreed I would come back eventually.”

“And now you work for him.”

“Pretty much.” Bruce stared down at the counter top. “I don’t know if it’s safe for me to be here but I feel safe anyway. It seems selfish, putting everyone at risk.”

“This is the safest place to be. No safer place in the world.”

“Or more dangerous.” Bruce couldn’t help chiming in. 

Clint grinned a strange grin. “Or more dangerous.”

Alone in the tower, Bruce and Clint were falling into a routine. They had their morning tea and coffee together, not talking much but just enjoying each other’s silent company. Then, Bruce would go down to the lab to get some work done and Clint would go to the local archery range or help out with whatever small duties S.H.I.E.L.D. vaguely trusted him to do without shooting anyone. 

Around dinner time, Clint would drag Bruce out of the lab for dinner and a movie. They cooked together and alternated picking movies to watch. They curled up on their respective ends of the couch, sometimes with a bowl of popcorn between them, and watched all of the Indiana Jones movies (except Crystal Skull because seriously, Clint, seriously), Back to the Future, and Emperor’s New Groove after much insistence from Clint that it was the best Disney movie ever made. They either fell asleep on the couch together or they would attempt to sleep in their respective apartments. Bruce figured out pretty fast that Clint didn’t sleep in his apartment. He had dark circles under his eyes and yawned constantly until he drank at bare minimum, two cups of coffee in the morning. He realized after Clint started taking little cat naps on the couch in his lab that he couldn’t sleep alone. 

Bruce could sympathize. He didn’t sleep very much most nights. He’d gotten used to managing his nightmares but occasionally, one would really get to him and pick at one of his many never healed wounds. On those nights, Bruce went to the containment chamber Tony built in an attempt to persuade him that it was safe to stay at the tower and do science. Initially, Bruce had rolled his eyes and went on his kind of merry way to Southeast Asia. After a while, Bruce’s resolve wore low in the face of Tony’s persistence even halfway across the globe. 

Now, he spent maybe one of two nights in the containment chamber, glad for its presence but frustrated that he had to use it so often. These nightmares shouldn’t get to him as much as they did after all of this time. 

One night after a particularly awful nightmare complete with visions of the Hulk ripping apart Tony, Betty, and his mother, Bruce barely made it to the chamber before he collapsed on the floor, pain rippling through his body. 

When he returned to himself much later, he was smothered in plush blankets with the TV in the chamber on low. Clint sat a few feet away on one of the beanbag chairs Tony had scattered around the room. He was laughing quietly at Spongebob and glanced over at Bruce when he shifted, pulling the blankets down off his face. 

“Hey Freckles, you’re back.” 

Bruce blinked. “What are you doing in here?”

“Making sure you were alright and hanging out with my best buddy, Hulk. We watched Spongebob and had some popcorn.” 

Bruce surveyed the empty popcorn bags strewn around the floor. 

“He could have killed you, Clint.” 

“He wouldn’t hurt me.” Clint announced, munching on some popcorn. 

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually. And maybe some day, you will too. Now, let’s get you to bed. It’s late.”

Bruce numbly followed Clint as he lead him to his suite in a daze. He fell into bed and resolved to push Clint’s motives to the back of his mind. 

  
  
  
  


Clint was asleep on the couch in his lab again. Bruce attempted not to watch him fidget and twitch. He was certain that nightmares will wake Clint up soon. Clint insisted that sleeping in Bruce’s lab in particular helped but so far more times than not, Clint startled awake, disoriented and panicking.  Bruce did his best to calm him down but he has never been good at making people feel calm, not even before the Other Guy. 

Clint was murmuring and his body was spasming. Bruce set down his tablet and approached the couch. He knelt down where Clint could see him; a respectful distance away from the couch.

“Hawkeye!” 

Clint’s eyes snapped open and locked onto Bruce, terror plain in his eyes, his entire body rigid. 

“You’re in my lab; it’s just me here.” 

Clint relaxed slightly and rolled onto his back, rubbing his face. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bruce asked.  

Clint shook his head. “Nothing to talk about.”

“I’m at a good stopping point. I was going to cook something if you’re hungry.”

“OK, yeah.” Clint stretched and cracked his back and shoulders. 

“Give me a minute to clean up and we’ll go upstairs.”

Bruce stood and Clint reached out to touch his arm. “Thanks for waking me up, man.”

Bruce tensed and resisted the urge to back away from the touch. Clint gently rubbed his arm and the spot tingled even after he let go. 

  
  
  
  


Before long, Tony returned from Malibu with Pepper and Steve drifted into the tower more often than not, looking sleep-deprived like the rest of them. 

Bruce was working in the lab when he returned and Clint was dozing on the lab couch. JARVIS’ voice broke the silence. “Dr. Banner and Mister Barton, I would like to inform you that Sir has returned from Malibu and is upstairs in the common room requesting your company for dinner.”

Bruce stretched and rubbed his eyes. He’d been alternating between staring at the microscope and the computer for hours; probably way longer than he could handle. 

He glanced over at Clint, buried under one of the many fuzzy blankets and throws strewn about the tower for wayward sleepers. 

He debated waking him. Clint so rarely got any sleep. If he woke him up now, Bruce doubted Clint would be able to sleep later. 

“JARVIS, tell Tony we’ll be up in a little while. Clint’s getting some much needed sleep and I don’t want to wake him.” Bruce murmured to JARVIS, knowing the AI could hear him. 

“Of course, Dr. Banner.” JARVIS replied and Bruce joined Clint in an armchair nearby. 

  
  
  


“You know, I have beds.” Tony announced as he strolled into the common room to find Clint curled up on the end of the couch. 

“I can’t sleep in beds.” Clint wiggled out of the mass of blankets he’d cocooned himself in. 

"But you can sleep in our labs?"

"Apparently." 

Tony turned on the coffee maker and fished a mug out of the cabinet. 

"If you're around tonight, we're all watching a movie. Steve's coming over. There'll be pizza."

Clint nodded. “Sounds good.”

“It’s been good for Bruce, having you around.”

“It’s been good for me, being around.” 

Tony nodded. “Good. You know I’m having an archery range built on the floor right under yours. Contractors should be here tomorrow.”

“Tony, you don’t have to-”

“I know.” Tony interrupted. “But I am so suck it, bird brain.”

Tony poured a mug of coffee and left the room. 

  
  
  


That night, Clint found himself in the common room with Bruce, Tony, and Steve, who was visiting from DC for two weeks for S.H.I.E.L.D. business. Steve welcomed him with a heartfelt embrace that Clint hadn't expected but returned sincerely. It was hard not to be sincere with Steve. 

After distributing pizza, Tony and Steve took armchairs in front of the TV while Bruce and Clint  sat together one of the smaller couches. They watched The Princess Bride and then Tony put on Holy Grail. Halfway through the third movie, Bruce was asleep, head on Clint’s shoulder. Clint didn’t even realize until he glanced down at the end of the third movie to ask Bruce if he wanted another cup of tea and saw he was fast asleep. 

Tony chuckled. “I’m surprised he lasted this long. I think he’s been awake for basically three days.”

“Help me get a little more comfortable.” Tony gently lifted Bruce so Clint could position himself with his back against the arm of the couch, a large pillow propped along his back and Bruce nestled between his legs against Clint’s chest. Surprisingly, Bruce did not wake up during the maneuvering. When Tony rested Bruce back down, Bruce snuggled into Clint and hummed in contentment, falling still.

Tony grinned, making another drink and starting a new movie which Clint fell asleep in the middle of; lulled to sleep by Bruce’s warm body. Bruce was a good sleeping partner; he didn’t snore or thrash around a lot. 

The sunlight awoke Clint the next morning. He cracked an eye open and saw he was still in the common room. The TV was off, Tony and Thor were gone, and Bruce was still asleep against him, a plush blanket wrapped around them. 

He’d actually slept all night. Clint almost couldn’t believe it. Bruce stirred and yawned, stretching a little, and opened his eyes. He stared at Clint, confused and then his eyes widened. 

“Oh, Clint I’m so sorry!” 

“For what, Freckles?”

“I slept on you all night! You should have woken me up!” Bruce blushed, stumbling out from under the blanket and reaching out to the coffee table for his glasses. Clint grasped his arm to steady him. 

“Nah, You looked so peaceful and honestly, this has been the best nights sleep I’ve had in awhile. I usually have nightmares.”

“Me too.” Bruce murmured.

“Well, you were pretty quiet last night.”

Bruce blushed even redder, perching on the end of the couch and fiddling with his glasses. 

“Would you like some tea?” Clint asked, kicking the blanket the rest of the way off. Bruce nodded, not meeting his eyes. 

Clint added water to the electric kettle and turned it on. “What kind of tea do you want?”

“Is there any vanilla rooibos left?” 

Clint peeked into the tea cabinet. “Yep.” He retrieved a tea bag, coffee grounds, and two coffee mugs. After he started the coffeemaker and fixed Bruce’s tea, he returned to the couch and handed Bruce the mug. 

“Thanks.” Bruce curled his fingers around the mug. 

“No problem.”

“I really am sorry about last night.”

“It’s OK, Bruce you don’t have to apologize. I didn’t mind that much. It was actually kind of nice. I don’t sleep well alone. I used to have Phil but…” Clint trailed off.

Bruce nodded and tentatively reached a hand out to pat Clint’s shoulder. Clint gave him a little smile and they sat in silence for a moment, lost in thought until the kettle beeped. 

  
  


After the next few movie nights, Clint realized Bruce was pretty cute when he woke up in the morning, blushing and flustered. Though, Bruce was starting to look less flustered and more puzzled. 

“I sure seem to fall asleep on you a lot.” Bruce mumbled when he woke up in Clint’s arms for the probably the fourth time that month. 

“I like when you sleep on me.” Clint blurted out. 

"You're weird." Bruce stretched and untangled himself from Clint. "Do you want some coffee?" 

"Yes, please!" Clint fought the blush creeping up his neck and busied himself with straightening the couch. 

“How’s the archery range treating you?”

“Very well, thanks. It’s state of the art.”

Bruce nodded. “I bet it is.”

“Tony’s trying to make sure I stay.”

“I bet he is. Like I said he’s trying to collect the whole set.”

Clint blinked. “Of course.” 

Clint was pretty sure while Tony was a generous man, that archery range was indirectly, not for him. 

  
  
  


One movie night, Tony and Steve weren’t around. Tony was on a date night with Pepper and Steve was maybe probably on a date night with Sam though he definitely wouldn’t admit it and just blushed furiously when Tony teased him. Bruce made spicy tofu curry that made Clint’s nose run. He even made mango smoothies to go with it. 

“I love you.” Clint declared as they are finishing. Bruce blushed. “It’s just curry, nothing special.”

“I’m going to tell Steve and Tony in great detail what they missed.” Clint announced and made a mental note that Bruce was adorable when he blushed. He insisted on cleaning up since Bruce cooked. 

“Do you have to return to your evil lair?” 

“It’s not evil, it’s morally grey and no, I don’t have to.”

Clint grinned. “Do you want to watch a movie?” 

 

They ended up watching all of the Back to the Future movies. Bruce drifted to sleep with his head on Clint’s shoulder halfway through the third movie. Clint waited until it was finished to gently wake him and lead him to his room. Bruce leaned against Clint’s side during the entire trip back to his suite. 

“Time for bed, Bruce.” 

“You’re comfortable.” Bruce muttered, snuggling against Clint’s side. Clint reached a hand up to ruffle Bruce’s hair. “The bed is way more comfortable than my bony elbows.”

Clint gently maneuvered them to Bruce’s bed and sat down on the edge. 

“Stay.” Bruce protested, already close to falling asleep again and Clint couldn’t help it. 

He kicked off his shoes and laid down on the bed, pulling Bruce with him. 

Bruce curled up against his side, humming contentedly, and falling right to sleep. With Bruce’s comforting weight against him, Clint wasn’t far away from sleep either. 

 

Clint was awakened by a sharp jab to the diaphragm. Bruce thrashed around in the bed, sheets tangled around him as he fought against an invisible threat. 

“No, no, I’m not going back no!” Bruce screamed the last no and woke himself up, panting and sweating in the tangle of sheets. His eyes glowed green in the darkness. Clint reached a hand out towards Bruce, making sure to stay in his line of sight. He rested his fingers on Bruce’s wrist. “Bruce, you’re in the tower. You’re safe. No one’s going to take you.” 

Bruce blinked and finally seemed to register that it was a nightmare. “Clint?” 

“I’m here, Bruce.” 

Bruce scooted closer and met Clint’s eyes, his own eyes, safely brown now, were filled with tears. Clint opened his arms and Bruce leaned into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Clint’s waist and crying into his shoulder. Clint rubbed Bruce’s back, whispering reassurances in his ear. 

Bruce’s crying gradually subsided and he raised his head from Clint’s shoulder. 

“Sorry,” He mumbled, wiping his eyes. Clint grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and handed it to him. “I haven’t cried like that in ages.”

“No apologies necessary.”  Clint kept rubbing Bruce’s back, and eventually he felt Bruce relax against him. Clint gently helped Bruce slide back down on the bed. 

Clint followed suite, laying down and turning to meet Bruce’s eyes. 

“Can I-is it alright if-”  Bruce stuttered, breaking eye contact with Clint. 

Clint reached out to lace his fingers with Bruce’s. He gently squeezed Bruce’s hand. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Clint dragged the plush blanket from the bottom of the bed that Bruce had kicked off of himself over the two of them, tucking it around Bruce. 

Bruce snuggled into the blanket and shifted closer to Clint, curling against him. Clint kissed Bruce’s temple and they fell asleep still holding hands. 

After that night, Bruce and Clint slept together every night. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I can feel you staring at me.” Bruce announced without lifting his head from his microscope eyepiece. 

Clint blushed and was thankful Bruce wasn’t looking at him. 

“I was thinking you should make some of that curry again since Tony and Steve aren’t around again. Make them really jealous.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you like me better than them.” Clint blurted, inwardly cursing himself for being too forward. 

Bruce grinned, lifting his eyes from the microscope. “Maybe I do.”

Clint felt his blush return in full force. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Clint had feelings. He was disgruntled. The gentle touches, the hugs, falling asleep on each other, comforting each other after nightmares. The feeling in his chest like his heart might drop out of his body every time he saw Bruce. Yep. Clint knew this feeling and he was terrified. What about Phil, all those years of loving him what did it mean now.. 

"You're an idiot.," Kate fired an arrow and it stuck itself right between two of Clint's.

Clint drew an arrow from his quiver and notched it. 

“I’ve got it under control.” He let the arrow fly hitting the target dead center. 

Kate raised an eyebrow. “Ahh ignore it until it goes away: The Clint Barton speciality.”

Clint let another arrow go and it almost knocked Kate's off of the target. 

"I’m not ready yet. " Clint's stupid heart protested but he knew he was right. He had so few friends now and Bruce's trust meant a lot to him. He didn't have it in him to fuck that up. 

Kate stared at him for a moment. "You know Phil would want you to be happy right?" 

"Well, I can't ask him because I let him die so what can you do."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Clint, I swear to god I will slap you." She fired another arrow. 

"I know you're determined to hate yourself but you can't use Phil as a reason. It's not your fault he died."

Clint shook his head but didn't reply. He picked up another arrow from his quiver and went back to shooting. They practiced in silence for the rest of their weekly session. Kate broke the silence as they were packing up their equipment. 

“Want to get pizza?”

Clint shook his head. “I’m not hungry.” He picked up his bags and forced a smile at Kate. “See you next week.”

“Clint!” 

Clint decided to go back to his apartment. He needed some time to sort out his stupid, stupid heart. 

  
  


When he unlocked the door, there was a figure sitting on his couch. Clint froze. 

“Natasha?”

“Hi, Clint.”

“Where the fuck have you been? You said it would be a month at most. I haven’t seen you in six months. You didn’t even send me a message, Tasha.” 

“I’m sorry. Fury intercepted all of my communications.” 

“Your mission was so important he wouldn’t let you text me? What the fuck does he have you doing these days? It must be really special. ” Clint kicked the door shut and strode into his kitchen to grab a beer out of the fridge. He spared a brief thought to go to the grocery store because beer was the only thing in there. 

"Clint." 

He stopped, putting the beer down and turning to glare at her. " What Natasha?" 

He watched a brief flash of hurt cross her face and then just as quickly, it disappeared. 

"Phil's alive." 

Clint lost touch with his body. He heard Natasha saying his name from what felt like miles away. Something touched his arm and he jerked away. Natasha  knelt next to him. Her mouth was moving. 

“Hawkeye!” Clint blinked and he was back in his living room on the floor. How did he get on the floor. He stared at her. “Alive?” He whispered, hands shaking. 

Natasha nodded and he could see tears in her eyes. Clint reached for her and they sit on the floor arms around each other for a long time. Clint buried his face in her shoulder and cried. Clint felt a few tears fall onto his shoulder and he rubbed Natasha’s back. When they both felt a little more in control, they got up off the floor and relocated to the couch. Clint put his hand on Natasha’s, brushing his thumb against the back of her hand in slow circles. 

“How?” Clint asked.

“Some kind of re-animation mindfuck bullshit. I don’t entirely understand but it’s hurting him. He needs us, Clint.” 

“Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he tell any of us?”

Natasha sighed, squeezing his hand. “I guess we’ll have to ask him.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I wasn’t supposed to know that Phil was alive. Fury wanted me to go undercover to gain intel about this person who calls themselves the Clairvoyant. They’re affiliated with HYDRA and Phil’s team is going after them. They’ve got a network of people working for them. It’s taken a while to trace the thread back to the person in charge. Phil’s getting close and Agent May contacted Fury to warn him about the rabbit hole the whole team is being sucked into so Fury is sending me as back up. And I’m bringing you.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“I still trust you, Clint. Even if you don’t trust yourself.”

Clint sighed. “When do we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I actually updated within a reasonable amount of time! Last part should be up this month, it's the longest chapter so there is that. Thanks for all of the love, I really appreciate it!


	3. I wanted you, I needed you, to make me better

Fury sent one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s more inconspicuous planes to pick them up. Natasha flew the plane and Clint settled in the back, trying to calm himself down. How could Phil still be alive and not have contacted him at all? He was sworn to secrecy not to mention it to any of the other Avengers or anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. until Fury decided it was a good idea. Which Clint thought was total bullshit but he decided to keep his mouth shut until he actually saw Phil.

He tried to keep his hands from shaking as he made sure his bow and arrows were properly cleaned and arranged. He kept dropping the arrows and cursing until Natasha yelled at him from the front of the plane. “Why don’t you put those down before you hurt yourself?”

Clint set the arrows down and leaned his head back against the side of the plane. “Why did Fury lie to us for so long? Why didn’t Phil get in contact with me?”

Natasha sighed. “Fury told him he had to lay low and he couldn’t contact you or anyone else. He must have thought it was serious enough that he didn’t try.”

“I don’t think I can do this. This is too much.” Natasha put the plane on autopilot and walked over to Clint.

“I can’t do this without you, Clint. I can’t see him again without you.”

Clint sighed, reaching out and taking Natasha’s hand. “OK.” 

“We can do this. He needs our help.” Natasha squeezed his hand and Clint nodded.

They spent the rest of the flight in silence. When the plane landed, Natasha and Clint gathered their bags and exited to see a quinjet idling across from them. A stern looking Agent May stood on the entrance ramp. She nodded at Natasha and Clint.

“It’s good to see you two.” “What do you need?” Natasha asked.

It’s more like what he needs.” Agent May replied. “He’s… fixated on the patterns. It’s getting worse.” She led them into the quinjet and through a long corridor. Clint had a million questions swirling around in his brain. Before he could blurt any one of them out, Agent May was already knocking on the door to what looked like a large office.

“Coulson, I brought you some company.” The door swung open and Agent Coulson answered. He was exhausted, Clint could tell. To an eye untrained in Agent Coulson, he looked like his usual self; immaculate suit and tie, mildly pleasant facial expression masking all of his feelings. Clint could see the dark shadows under his eyes, the tightness of his jaw, and the slight shaking in his hands.

“Agent Barton, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Agent Coulson, good to see you’re not dead.” Clint attempted to smile but it fell short. Coulson hadn’t called him Agent Barton off the field in years. “Good to not be dead.” Coulson replied smoothly. Clint felt his heart cracking into pieces.

“Agent May said you needed some help with a pattern?” Natasha cut in, obviously seeing the pain on Clint’s face despite his best efforts to hide it.

Coulson shot Agent May a frustrated glare. “Agent May, I am handling the situation.”

Agent May met his glare. “Yes, that’s why you’ve barely slept in weeks.”

“There was no need to call in Agent Romanov and Agent Barton. You’re dragging them into a mess that isn’t theirs.”

Agent May sighed, reaching out to touch Phil’s arm. “I know you want to figure out what happened to you and Skye but you can’t keep trying to figure it out alone. You need more help. I’ll leave you all to it.”

Agent May left the office, closing the door gently behind her. Phil sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I guess I have a lot of things to explain.”

“How are you still alive?” Clint blurted out.

“I’m not entirely sure. I’ve been trying to put the pieces together over the last year and a half but I am pretty sure it was Tahiti.”

Clint clenched his fists. “Tahiti? Fury really did that to you?”

“I think he was desperate. He injected me with this drug to heal my injuries and it makes me… I can’t stop seeing the patterns.”

“What patterns?” Natasha asked. Phil flipped a switch and the walls of his office lifted to reveal giant panels of wood with lines and circles carved into them.

Clint stared in awe at the massive carvings that covered the entire surface from ceiling to floor.

“Do you have any ideas what it could be?” Natasha asked, reaching out to brush her fingers against the wall.

“I get the feeling it’s a map or code of some kind. But not one I can piece together.”

Clint backed up so his back was against the opposite wall of the office. It was still too close to take in the whole wall at once. He cleared his throat and Phil whipped his head back to look at him. “Is there any way I could see the whole carving at once?”

“I could get a picture taken from the camera in the office and display it on the training room wall. That should be big enough that you can take in the whole carving.” Phil replied.

A few minutes later, Clint was perched on the rafters in the training room, studying the giant projection.

Phil and Natasha left him to it, knowing if he came up with anything he would let them know. Really, Clint just needed a break from being near Phil. Being so close to him and knowing Phil didn’t want him anymore was a kick in the gut. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before there was a knock on the training room door. It opened and Natasha was there with a plate of food.

“It’s getting late, Clint. You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“At least take a break. You’ve been up there for hours.”

Clint shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t have anything else to do.”

Natasha glared at him. “Get down here, little hawk. You’re done for today.”

Clint knew she wouldn’t leave him alone so he hopped down from the rafters, landing deftly on his feet. He followed Natasha to their guest rooms. He went into her room and she watched him eat some of the food. “You should get some sleep.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “I’m not tired. I’ll keep watch and you can sleep.”

Natasha sighed. “OK but wake me in a few hours. You need to rest.” Natasha curled up in the bed next to him and Clint retrieved a paperback from her bag on the floor.

The next morning, after Natasha gently woke Clint up, the two of them stumbled to the kitchen in search of coffee. Phil was in the process of brewing a fresh pot and he glanced over his shoulder when Clint and Natasha entered.

“Good morning.” Phil greeted them.

“Good morning.” Natasha replied. Clint just nodded and leaned against the cramped kitchen wall.

“Did you sleep well?” The coffee finished brewing and Phil poured them each a cup.

“Did you?” Natasha asked, taking a sip of coffee.

Phil sighed. “I’m sure you already know the answer to that question.” He rubbed his face and groaned. “I don’t know what to do.”

Clint couldn’t help approaching Phil, gently resting a hand on his arm. Phil flinched and Clint immediately pulled back. Phil reached out again, pressing two fingers to Clint’s wrist. Clint turned to meet his eyes and Phil leaned his head down and rested it on Clint’s shoulder. Clint reached up and embraced him, rubbing his back. His heart eased a little and he relished the warmth of Phil’s body against his again.

“We’ll figure it out.” Clint murmured. “I promise, Phil.”

Phil, Natasha, and Clint situated themselves in the training room, armed with coffee and new found determination. After an hour or so of studying the projection and Phil doing some research on his laptop, it was Natasha who broke the silence.

“I think it’s a map.”

Phil glanced up from his laptop. “Of what?” 

“I’m not sure but I think the circles and the lines should be stacked on top of each other instead of laid out flat.”

Phil had a digital model of the carvings on his laptop and he arranged them accordingly. “I think you’re right. It looks like a structure of some kind.”

Clint leaned over Phil’s shoulder to look at the screen. “It doesn’t look like it’s from this planet.”

“So far my research suggests something ancient and otherworldly. I can’t find any reference to these patterns on Earth.”

Over the next few hours of research as they pieced together the mystery, Clint could feel Phil relaxing a little. He wondered if any of his team had realized how much this was affecting him. Probably only Agent May knew him well enough to notice. Finally, Phil leaned back from his laptop.

“We’ve learned a lot. We know this structure has to be constructed by another race of beings and somehow, it exists on Earth. We are still not sure what the purpose of the building is but I am pretty sure the clairvoyant is leading us to it.”

“I have plenty of theories as to why that is.” Clint grumbled.

“My team and I have the basic information to go from here.” Phil closed the laptop. “I couldn’t have done this without both of you.”

“You’re not going to actually go to this place, are you?” Clint asked.

Phil sighed. “We have to. We have to put an end to this and I can’t help Skye unless I investigate every avenue available.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“So do I but I have to do my job. What am I without a mission? How I can protect the people I care about if I stay on the sidelines?”

“I know but I just got you back.” Clint whispered. Phil wrapped one arm around Clint and reached his other hand out to Natasha, who took it and gave him a squeeze.

 

It was a relief to return to the tower and solid ground. Clint was discombobulated, flooded with emotions he didn't really want to spend time piecing out at the moment. Clint had begged to be allowed to accompany Phil’s team on the mission to the mysterious structure but Fury had denied the request. Clint was going to give Fury a big fuck you and go anyway if not for Phil’s pleading with him to go back to the tower and stay safe.

“You can’t die again.” Clint hissed as he embraced Phil. “I’ll do my best.”

And now, after a long hot shower, Clint ended up in Bruce’s lab.

“Clint, you’re back! How was the mission?” Bruce asked and that was all it took for Clint to fall to pieces. He almost hit the ground but Bruce caught him and walked him over to the couch. Bruce embraced him and rubbed his back until his crying gradually subsided.

“Sorry, I got snot all you.” Clint murmured into Bruce’s shoulder.

“I’ve had worse things on me. Do you want to talk about it?”

Clint took a deep breath. “Yes, but it’s classified.” He felt Bruce’s nod against his head.

“OK, well I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

Clint raised his head, meeting Bruce’s eyes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Clint leaned forward, bringing his face close to Bruce’s. Their lips met, brushing against each other lightly. They paused for a moment, faces close and foreheads touching, and then Clint pressed his lips against Bruce’s and they kissed with a little more confidence. Their arms tightened around each other and Clint tangled a hand in Bruce’s soft, greying curls. Bruce slowly pulled back a little.

“Was that…? Are you...OK?”

Clint blinked at him. “More than OK.” He nuzzled Bruce’s neck, pressing kisses against his skin. “Are you OK?” He asked, breath ghosting against Bruce’s ear.

“Yes.”

“I like you.” Clint whispered. “I like you too.” “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

“Like a date?” Bruce murmured.

“Yes, if that is cool with you?”

“Yes.” Bruce turned his head and they lost a little time kissing. After an afternoon of alternately making out and snuggling, Bruce and Clint retired to Bruce’s apartment to cook dinner. They cooked together, hands brushing and shoulders bumping against each other as they worked in the small kitchen. They curled up on the couch with the massaman curry and tofu that mostly Bruce made. Clint managed to cook rice and blend up some mango lassi. They browsed netflix and settled on Black Books. After a few episodes, with both of them dozing lightly against each other, Clint murmured against Bruce’s skin.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being with me all day. And cooking this delicious dinner. And agreeing to go on a date with me.”

Bruce kissed the top of Clint’s head. “I like you, Clint. But before we get too much further, I should probably mention something.”

Bruce took a deep breath. “It might be a deal breaker.”

Clint lifted his head from Bruce’s shoulder, turning to face him. “What’s up doc?”

Bruce couldn’t find his voice past the sudden lump in his throat and he closed his eyes. Clint reached out and patted his hand, rubbing gentle circles on his skin. Bruce focused on the sensation for a moment; trying to think of the right words.

“Do you know what asexuality is?” Bruce asked quietly, unable to meet Clint’s eyes.

“Yes, I know a few people who roll that way.”

“Oh, well I uh roll that way.”

Clint grinned. “Please say roll that way again.”

“I just...that isn’t always something people are cool with, you know. I’ve only had one semi-successful relationship in my life. All of the rest I was too pressured into having sex and I used to give in a lot. I loved them and I thought I owed them sex. At best, I was indifferent but found being close to the person was nice. At worst, I was...it could probably be seen as rape..I guess...I don’t know.” Bruce sighed.

“It sounds to me like it was.” Clint interrupted, unable to conceal his anger.

“Anyway, the point is sex is mostly off the table for me. On occasion, I am in the mood to pleasure a partner but I don’t ever like people doing anything like that to me. If this is a deal breaker for you, I understand and we can go back to being friends. Your friendship is important to me and I hope that it won’t suffer if we don’t work out.” Bruce stared at his hands to avoid meeting Clint’s eyes and discovering whatever reaction he’d had to Bruce’s confession. He wasn’t expecting a second date but he hoped that he hadn’t ruined their connection.

“Is it OK… Can I hug you?” Clint asked.

Bruce blinked, surprised. “Sure.”

Clint wrapped his arms around Bruce’s shoulder, one hand gently cupping the back of Bruce’s head. “Thank you for telling me. I promise not to tell anyone without your permission.”

“Thank you.” Bruce murmured into Clint’s shoulder.

“I know I said that thing that was bothering me was classified but I think after you shared with me, I should share this with you.”

Clint took a deep breath. “Phil’s alive!”

Bruce backed away from Clint, his mouth open in shock. “What? How?”

Clint swallowed. “Fury used T.A.H.I.T.I. on him.”

Bruce paled. He knew all about Project T.A.H.I.T.I. from what Clint had told him. Phil had been agonizing over the project, certain that it should be never be used on anyone after the effects it had on the test subjects.

“Have you seen him? How is he doing?”

“I have. Natasha and I helped him solve the puzzle he was obsessing over. It was a map to some ancient alien structure and right now, Phil and his team of misfits are on the hunt for the stupid place to like save the world and stop this evil HYDRA dude but neither Tasha nor I were allowed to accompany him because god forbid we get hurt or killed. It’s not like I’ve lived with his death for how long now and maybe, just, maybe I would like to be there to help as he fucking charges in again to save this goddamn stupid world. He begged me not to come, Bruce. I have never seen him beg for anything and I couldn’t...I couldn’t go against it. He didn’t even order me not to, he just made me swear not to follow him. Said he couldn’t save the world if he didn’t know I was absolutely 100% safe.”

Bruce leaned in to hug Clint again. “He loves you very much.”

“I know, I love him too. I just need some time to sort out all of my feelings.”

“I think maybe when Phil completes his mission, he should come back here and all three of us should talk.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I think that would be best. Until then, let’s put the romantic stuff on hold and just stay friends until our feelings are more clear and Phil is safe.” Clint nuzzled Bruce’s shoulder.

“What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”

Despite their best efforts to lay off the romantic stuff, Clint and Bruce couldn’t help sharing some more kisses and eventually falling asleep wrapped around each other.

Clint stumbled into the kitchen one morning to find Tony hunched, bleary eyed over a cup of coffee and a tablet. “Morning.” Clint mumbled, pulling out a mug and reaching for the coffee pot. Cling sat across from Tony at the kitchen table. He was halfway through his cup of coffee when Tony put down the tablet to fix his slightly more aware gaze on Clint.

“So you and Bruce…” “Oh god, it’s way too early for this.” Clint groaned.

“Oh calm down, Barton, I’m not going to scream at you. You guys haven’t exactly been hiding how cuddly you are.” Tony smirked.

Clint could feel himself blushing and he wanted to sink into the floor. Tony’s expression turned serious and he caught Clint’s eye and held it.

“Bruce is scared all the time. He’s scared of hurting people, he’s scared of being happy, and trusting other people to have his best interests at hurt. He doesn’t trust safety or feeling at peace in any way. Since you moved in, you’ve really helped him feel safe here and I can’t even begin to express how important that is but if you break his heart, if you destroy what little happiness he’s allowed himself to feel here, I don’t care that you’re an avenger or your best friend is a scary super assassin or Fury is your boss or whatever, I will find you no matter where you go and I will hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine right now. And I know you can imagine a lot of ways.” Tony paused, studying Clint’s face which he was exerting a lot of effort to keep carefully neutral.

“He’s a better friend than I deserve and he’s on the short list of people who I would move all of the nine realms of Asgard for if they needed it. I really hope that you’re with me on that for him because if you’re not, you better leave this tower now.”

“I'm with you.” Clint replied.

"Good." Tony saluted him with a coffee cup. "I'll see you around, Barton." 

 

Clint didn’t hear much from Phil over the next few weeks. He knew Phil was into some deep shit but he promised he would stay out of it. Natasha was keeping an eye on things remotely, unbeknownst to Fury. It was pretty much the only reason Clint stayed out of the way, no matter what Phil or Fury said. Then the giant pile of shit went down and Fury insisted Phil take a two month leave of absence. Phil didn’t argue too hard. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to head back to New York and sort things out with Clint. Tony invited him to stay in Avengers Tower and Phil asked Clint if it was alright. That phone conversation had been one of the most awkward Phil had ever had but Clint was too relieved that Phil was alive to give him much shit about making Clint stay behind.

When he arrived at the tower, Tony had thrown him a Surprise Welcome Back from the Dead party which OK, was incredibly awkward but the Avengers all greeted him with smiles and hugs.

Clint wrapped himself around Phil like an octopus and Natasha had to gently pry him off. Bruce was trying not to laugh at the struggle ensuing between the three of them.

When they finally separated, Phil turned to Bruce. Phil bypassed Bruce’s hand, extended to shake, to envelope him in a hug.

Bruce blinked, raising his arms to hug Phil back. “It’s good to see you again, Dr. Banner.”

“Good to see you too, Agent Coulson. Please, call me Bruce.”

Phil just smiled his enigmatic smile. “Then please call me Phil. Anyone who has helped Clint as much as you have is a friend of mine.”

“Oh, he’s helped me just as much, Ag-..Phil” Bruce corrected himself, looking sheepish.

“Do you mind if I borrow him for a few minutes?” Phil asked.

“Of course not, I..he doesn’t need my permission to do anything.” Bruce replied, confused.

Phil rested his hand gently on Clint’s arm and they both retreated out to the hallway.

Bruce remained for a few minutes, nodding politely at the other party guests, but decided to slip out. As he exited the room, he caught a glimpse of Clint and Phil a little ways down the corridor, kissing fiercely with their arms wrapped around each other. Bruce hurried away before they could notice him and hid away in his lab. He felt absolutely ridiculous for assuming that he and Clint had anything between them. Of course, now that Phil was back, he was at a loss for friends. Bruce’s heart ached but really, it was for the best. He and Clint would never have lasted anyway. He threw himself into his work, banishing thoughts of Clint and Agent Coulson from his mind.

 

Clint had never appreciated how easily Bruce Banner could disappear if he didn’t want to be found. Two weeks after Phil had returned, staying in the tower for his two month long vacation on the orders of secret director Fury and Agent Hill who both had threatened Phil with long term reassignment to Antarctica if he hadn’t left, and Bruce was nowhere to be found. Even Tony had barely seen him. Phil was kept busy by his ongoing physical therapy and endless paper work so it wasn’t like he and Clint were joined at the hip. Still, every time Clint had knocked on his apartment door, no one had answered and dropping by the lab unexpectedly hadn’t worked. Clint was starting to run out of ideas.

His current idea, shimmying along in the air vents towards the main common room at three am because pathetically not seeing Bruce for such a long time had thrown him off-kilter, would not win any awards for originality but Clint was worn out. He dropped down to the floor, making sure to clatter the vent when he moved it and thump his feet against the floor when he leaped down so Bruce wouldn’t be too startled.

Bruce was sitting on the couch, reading a book. Clint saw him tense as he approached the couch. Clint perched on the end in silence. After a few minutes, Bruce turned to look at him. “What’s up?” Bruce asked in a terrible attempt to be casual.

A thousand responses warred with each other in Clint’s head. “I’ve missed you around.” He finally blurted out. “I haven’t seen you and I thought maybe you were upset with me.”

Bruce sighed, closing his book. "I'm not upset with you. I just thought you and Phil might appreciate some time alone."

"Some alone time is one thing but you are outright avoiding us. Just because Phil is here doesn't mean I don't want you around. I mean, we're friends aren't we?"

"I think so." Bruce murmured.

“Hey Phil and I we aren’t...we’re not sleeping together right now. We’re staying in separate bedrooms, you know.”

Bruce blinked at him. “Ok….”

“So, if you want, if it’s ok, you can sleep with me. I mean, you know just sleep, I know you’re not in for other stuff. I sleep better sometimes with other people there. People I trust.” Clint stared intently at the floor like he wanted to burn a hole through it with his eyes.

Bruce smiled. “I would like that.”

“Alright, good.” Clint’s eyes shifted between the open air duct and the door. Bruce got up from the couch and approached Clint, reaching out for his hand. “Ready for bed?” Clint grinned. “Sure, doc. Lead the way!” 

 

Phil started appearing in Bruce’s lab. Bruce looked up from his microscope one day and saw Coulson curled up on the couch with a book. His presence in the lab became a regular occurrence and Bruce found it strangely calming to share the comfortable silence. 

“Why does Phil keep showing up in my lab?” Bruce inquired over breakfast with Clint one morning. 

Clint frowned. “I told him you had a sweet couch. Does it bother you?”

“No, it just seems like it wouldn’t be a comfortable place for him to work.”

“Phil can work anywhere. He’s talented. He probably likes the calm and quiet.”

“My lab is not a calm place for people who aren’t me.”

“Actually,” Clint speared a bit of egg from his plate. “Your lab is pretty calm and Phil likes to be kept company while he works.”

“Wouldn’t he rather sit with you?”

“I have a bad habit of trying to distract him. Also, he likes you so deal with it, Mr. Anti-Social.”

Bruce frowned. “I can’t imagine I have endeared myself much to him since he has gotten here.”

Clint reached out and rested his hand over Bruce’s. “You have just by being there for me.”

Bruce didn’t know quite what to say to that. He quietly finished his breakfast and Clint gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he headed down to the lab.

 

And then, Phil started talking a little to him. They realized they had quite a bit in common. They both had a dry sense of humor and made each other laugh a lot. They read a lot of the same books, both having a love for vintage fantasy and science fiction. Phil did yoga to keep flexible and they shared the yoga studio on more than a few mornings. 

Often Bruce would find Phil fast asleep in his lab and he made sure to leave a blanket and pillow for him. 

One day, Phil wandered into the lab and instead of heading straight for the couch like he usually did, he walked over to Bruce's lab bench. 

"Hello, Bruce. How are things?"

Bruce glanced up at Phil, surprised. "Going alright. How are you feeling?"

"I'm slowly recovering. My physical therapist says I am steadily improving though she may just be saying that to make me feel better."

Bruce laughed. "I don't know, Phil, you are a pretty motivated person."

"I suppose that is a good word for it." Phil paused for a moment and Bruce sensed he was working up to asking something. 

"Would you like to come to a movie night?"

"The team movie night? I was planning on coming to the next one."

"No, a movie night with me. And Clint."

Bruce blinked. "Just the three of us?"

"Yes, I thought it was about time we all three had some alone time together."

Bruce blushed. "That sounds almost like a date."

Phil smiled. "Well, it is a date."

"Really? Are you guys sure about that?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't sure. I know that Clint loves you and he still loves me. I love him and I want him to be happy. I also am becoming quite fond of you, Bruce.  So if you are open to it, maybe we could work something out."

Bruce nodded. "Ok, I will come."

"Great! See you tomorrow at 8pm." Phil kissed Bruce's cheek and left the lab. 

 

The following evening Bruce was almost too nervous to leave the lab. He wondered if this was the worst idea he had ever entertained and then quickly rejected that, as he was pretty sure he could think of worse things he'd done but god, he probably hadn't been quite as nervous about them. 

He went up to his apartment around 7:30 and took a shower. He changed into soft pants and a worn t-shirt, the standard team movie night outfit. Phil had assured him that he and Clint were going to be dressing comfortably rather than typical date style. It eased Bruce's nerves a little to not have to worry about dressing up. He'd baked chocolate chip cookies for the occasion and brought them along. 

At 8pm, Bruce walked to Clint's apartment and knocked. Clint answered, wearing an apron covered in flour and unknown liquid substances. 

"Bruce! I'm so glad you came! I'd hug you but I am fighting with a cake recipe right now. I don't want to cover you in egg."

"That's OK, I have battled many a cake in my life."

Bruce came into the apartment and saw Phil standing over the stove, stirring something in a large pot. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Bruce. "Hello! Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

Bruce sat on a stool near the kitchen island. "It smells wonderful!"

"It's tomato sauce, a family recipe. The pasta is almost done and Clint managed to make some salads earlier before the cake happened. Or rather attempted to happen."

"I will not lose to that cake!" Clint exclaimed, picking up a wooden spoon to stir the large bowl of batter sitting on the counter. 

Soon the cake was in the oven, dinner was ready and distributed amongst the three of them. They arranged themselves on the couch and queued up the movie. Clint had chosen The Empire Strikes Back and Bruce knew all the lines. Surprisingly, Phil knew them too and Clint rolled his eyes at both of them. 

By the end of the movie, they'd all eaten until they were full and were relaxed on the couch. Clint's head was in Phil's lap and Bruce's thigh was pressed against Phil. Both of their hands were resting in Clint's hair. Bruce felt more comfortable and calm than he had in a long time. Phil's warmth was easing the tension in Bruce's body and he felt himself drifting off to sleep. 

"I should probably get back to my apartment before I fall asleep on you, Phil." Bruce murmured, reluctant to move. 

"I don't mind unless you really want to leave." Phil gently squeezed Bruce's hand. 

"Yeah," Clint whispered, half asleep. "Sleep over. Phil and I don't mind." 

"Only if you really don't mind."

"Let's move this to the bed." Phil said, gently nudging Clint upright. They all stumbled to Clint's bed and crawled under the covers. Clint maneuvered to the middle of the bed, Phil took the left side, and Bruce lay down tentatively on the right. 

"Mmmm.. perfect." Clint mumbled as he fell asleep. 

"Goodnight, Clint. Goodnight Bruce." 

"Goodnight guys." Bruce replied, snuggling against Clint's side. He felt Phil's hand rest against his and soon he was asleep. 

 

 

 

 

Bruce knew Clint and Phil were quickly warming up to each other. He had walked in on them making out a few times. Bruce figured they should have a talk soon about where this relationship was going. He hadn’t really talked much to Phil about his sexual orientation and it was probably a long overdue talk. 

And then one day, Bruce walked in on Clint fucking Phil into the mattress and he almost backed out of the room. Phil caught his eye across the room and exclaimed “Bruce!” and Clint met his eyes. “Care to watch?”

“I... I’m sorry, I’ll just…” Bruce backed out of the room. 

“Bruce, come back please!”

Bruce scurried out of the apartment, away from the bedroom he’d been sharing with two men he was in way too deep with, and ran down to the lab, locking everyone out except Tony. 

 

Tony was waist deep under one of his cars, covered in grease when Bruce stumbled into the lab. 

“Brucie! Just the man I wanted to see! I need some help with this car!”

Bruce sat down in his lab chair and buried his face in his hands. 

Tony slid out from under the car. “Brucie, what happened?”

“I’m a moron.” Bruce groaned, voice muffled by his hands. 

“I have evidence to suggest otherwise.” Tony wiped his hands on a towel and walked over, putting a hand on Bruce’s back. 

“I don’t know why I thought it would work between us. I mean, they have a history, a real history, and what do I have with either of them? Just a few shared nights and some hugs. I was always a temporary replacement.”

“Those bastards! Did they reject you?”

Bruce shook his head. “I walked in on them.”

“And they didn’t invite you?”

“Well, they did but you know that’s not my thing, I can’t so I ran away.”

“I can’t believe I am suggesting this but it sounds like you all need to have a talk about you know all that jazz.”

“All that jazz?” 

“Feelings and stuff. Boundaries, I don’t know. That’s what people in healthy relationships do right?”

Bruce laughed dryly. “I think so.” 

“Anyway, want to blow some stuff up?”

“Sure, why not?”

 

Clint and Phil didn’t see him for a few days. They went down to the labs and to Bruce’s apartment to find him so they could talk but JARVIS wouldn’t let them in. 

It took a week until they saw him again. Clint and Phil wandered into the common room to think about preparing some sort of breakfast to find Bruce making crepes. 

“Bruce!” Clint blurted out, barely restraining himself from rushing forward and wrapping his arms around him. 

“Agent Barton, Agent Coulson! It’s good to see you both. Would you care for a crepe?” Bruce asked over his shoulder as he delicately flipped a crepe in the pan. 

Clint’s face fell at “Agent Barton.” but he quickly shoved the pain down. 

“Sure” Phil answered for both of them. “We would love one, Dr. Banner.” 

Bruce didn’t even flinch at the use of his formal title. “To put inside, I have strawberries, nutella, banana, peaches, almonds, and honey. Or if you want a savory crepe, I have eggs, spinach, bacon, cheddar cheese, mushrooms, green peppers, tomatoes...any of those sound good?”

“I would love a crepe with strawberries, nutella, and banana.” Phil replied, pouring himself a cup of the coffee that was already brewed. 

“Spinach, bacon, cheddar, and tomatoes, please!”  Clint chimed in, eyeing the coffee with obvious desire. Phil passed a mug and the carafe. 

“Alright, I will have those right out for you.”

After they had enjoyed the crepes and coffee (or tea in Bruce’s case), Clint and Phil insisted on cleaning up the kitchen. 

“Come on, Bruce! Go put a movie on and we’ll be in after we finish.” Phil coaxed. Finally Bruce meandered into the living room and the kitchen was cleaned up in no time. 

When Clint and Phil went into the living room, armed with fresh cups of coffee and a hot cup of tea for Bruce, Galaxy Quest was playing on the TV.

“Oh, one of my favorites!” Clint sat his coffee down and snuggled up to Bruce, laying his head in his lap. Bruce looked surprised and glanced over at Phil, who smiled warmly at him and lifted Clint’s legs so he could sit down. He placed them onto his lap and gently massaged Clint’s feet. 

Throughout the movie, Clint nuzzled his head against Bruce’s thighs and hummed happily, almost purring. Bruce ran his fingers through Clint’s hair.

“We’ve missed you.” Phil murmured over the end credits. Clint was drifting, half-asleep on Bruce. 

“I’ve missed you both too.”

“I’m sorry we upset you and excluded you.”

Bruce shook his head. “It’s OK. I thought when Clint told me you were coming back that whatever we had would end. I’m not upset.” 

Clint’s eyes opened at his words. “What?”

“It’s really OK, Clint. Don’t worry about it.”

Clint sprang up a sitting position, turning around so he was facing Bruce. “Don’t worry about it? You think Phil and I don’t want to be with you and you tell me not to worry about it? I love you, Bruce. I love Phil. I don’t want to be without either of you.”

“I love you and Clint, Bruce.” Phil placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “I think we all fit together. It’s up to you what you want from us, if anything. If it makes you uncomfortable to be in a relationship with us, we can just be friends but whatever you need, we can talk about it.”

“I probably should have talked to you about this sooner, Phil. I told Clint a while ago and this whatever is between us happened so fast I…” Bruce took a deep breath. Phil gently rubbed Bruce’s shoulder. 

“I’m asexual. Biromantic to be specific. Sex doesn’t appeal to me. I identified as asexual before the Other Guy so it isn’t linked to that. And before you ask, I have had sex. I just didn’t enjoy it very much and it was with someone I loved. But I want all of the other things that come with a relationship if you are both open to that.” 

Phil nodded. “I’m open to it. Tell me what your boundaries are and we’ll work within them.”

Clint nuzzled Bruce’s other shoulder. 

Bruce returned his hand to Clint’s hair, gently scratching. Clint purred. 

Phil leaned his head on Bruce’s shoulder and rested one hand on Clint’s leg. “Start another movie, JARVIS.”

JARVIS started Emperor’s New Groove and the three of them drifted into a comfortable silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took me so long! I don't forget about my stories, I just am a painfully slow writer so I will stop making promises on when these get posted. XD


	4. The Perfect Paramour you were in your letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's going down, I'm yelling timber

“But I thought Fury was giving you another month of vacation!” Clint whined.

“He wouldn’t call me in if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.” Phil replied, collecting his razor, shampoo, and toothbrush from the bathroom.

“Hasn’t he done enough to you though? I mean, you almost died! And you went right back to work.”

“I was in recovery for six months.”

“Still!”

Clint could practically feel Phil slipping into his Agent Coulson headspace. He didn’t meet Clint’s eyes as he methodically packed his suitcase.

“At least let me come with you!”

  
Phil sighed, turning to Clint. “You’re an avenger, Clint. You are needed here.”

  
“But I need you here!” Clint blurted out before he could stop himself.

  
Phil put down the garment bag in his hand and reached out to take Clint’s hands in his.

  
“I promise that I will skype you every day.”

  
“Six weeks, Phil! Six weeks, I can’t do it. It’s too much!”

  
“What’s six weeks?” Bruce asked, coming into the bedroom.

  
“Fury’s making Phil go on a mission!” Clint yelled. “He barely gave him time off from his last mission!”

  
“You’re leaving?” A frown flashed over Bruce’s face but was quickly buried under his usual neutral expression. He was almost as bad as Natasha sometimes.

  
“Fury requested me. This mission needs my special touch according to him.”

  
“When do you leave?”

  
“Early tomorrow morning between 4 and 5AM.”

  
“I’m making dinner. When you’re finished packing, come to the kitchen.” Bruce declared and left the bedroom.

  
When Clint and Phil joined Bruce in the kitchen thirty minutes later, Bruce was almost finished making a vegetable and tofu stir-fry.

  
They served themselves and settled in front of the TV to watch a movie. Halfway through, Clint was straddling Phil’s lap, kissing him and rocking his hips against him.

  
“You wanna take this to the bed?” Phil murmured between kisses. Clint nodded and they untangled themselves.

  
Bruce pretended to watch the movie like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. Phil hesitated.

  
“Bruce, please come with us.” Phil whispered.

  
Bruce turned and blinked. “Why... you...I don’t…” He stuttered.

  
“I want you close, if it’s OK with you.”

  
Phil didn’t make many requests of either of them. Bruce found he couldn’t refuse and honestly, he didn’t want to say no.

  
Bruce stood up and Phil grabbed his hand, pulling him close. He pressed a kiss to Bruce’s cheek and Bruce turned his head to meet Phil’s mouth.

  
Clint leaned in and whispered into Phil’s ear, loud enough that Bruce could hear.

  
“I want to fuck you while Bruce holds you in his arms.”

  
Phil shivered and let a small moan against Bruce’s lips.

  
Clint reached for Bruce and Phil’s hands and herded them into the bedroom.

  
“Get comfortable, Bruce.”

  
Bruce settled on the bed, propping up some pillows behind his head and back.

  
Once he was arranged the way he wanted, Phil climbed onto the bed and nestled himself between Bruce’s legs, leaning his body back against Bruce’s chest. Phil let out a contented sigh and nuzzled Bruce’s chest.

  
Bruce pressed a kiss to the top of Phil’s head.

  
Clint grinned and crawled up onto the bed. He kissed Phil and Bruce, taking his time and giving them both attention. He unbuttoned Phil’s shirt and slid it off of his shoulders, tossing it aside. Clint pressed kisses down Phil’s chest, pausing when he reached the top of Phil’s pants. He unbuttoned them and helped Phil maneuver them off, along with his underwear. Clint smirked up at Phil, lowering his mouth to Phil’s cock, taking the head into his mouth and sucking.

  
Phil squirmed in Bruce’s arms. Feeling Phil shivering and squirming with pleasure in his arms brought a wave of pure affection over Bruce. He kissed and nuzzled Phil’s neck and shoulders and when Phil came, tensing and then relaxing as sweet waves of pleasure rolled through his body, Bruce felt so tender towards him, he almost blurted it out but contented himself with holding Phil a little tighter.

  
Phil melted into his embrace, his body more relaxed than Bruce had ever felt before.

  
Clint was still hard and Phil offered to ride him once he recovered.

  
Clint shook his head. “I want to fuck you while Bruce holds you.”

  
Clint grabbed some lube out of a nightstand and gave his cock a few quick strokes. He moaned and had to remove his hand before he came. Clint gently and thoroughly prepped Phil and finally, slid his thick, hard cock into the tight heat of Phil’s body.

  
The scene that unfolded in front of Bruce was lovely, at least in Bruce’s opinion. Watching Clint’s body as he orgasmed inside of Phil, who had managed to come again, made him feel a twinge of understanding as to why people were so interested in sex. Bruce didn’t even realize his cock was half hard in his pants from the friction of Phil rocking in his arms as Clint fucked him.

“Want a hand with that?” Clint asked, gesturing to the tent in Bruce’s pants. Bruce thought for a moment. It had been weeks since he last masturbated. He didn’t really spend much time thinking about it. Maybe because of Phil leaving and witnessing the intimacy between Clint and Phil, Bruce decided that yes, he did want a hand with that.

  
“Would you guys mind..ummm… holding me while I…” Bruce trailed off.

  
“Switch with me.” Phil extracted himself from Bruce’s arms and propped himself against the headboard. Bruce leaned back against Phil’s chest and Phil slid his hands around Bruce’s waist, not squeezing, but loosely embracing him. Phil nuzzled Bruce’s neck.

  
“Where do you want me?” Clint batted his eyelashes at Bruce.

  
“Put your head on my thigh.”

  
Clint shifted next to Bruce and curled up on his right side, resting his head on Bruce’s thigh. Phil’s hand moved to Clint’s hair, running his fingers gently through it.  
Bruce hesitating, unsure of how to start. He didn’t usually touch himself with an audience. Was he supposed to make it a show?

  
“I can feel you thinking, Bruce. It’s OK, relax and enjoy yourself.” Phil whispered against his skin.

  
Bruce shivered and his hand slid down to the waistband of his pants. He pushed the button loose and eased the pants over his hips. Phil held his hips up so Bruce can take his pants off. Clint pulled them off of his feet and rested his head on Bruce’s thigh again.

  
“No underwear, didn’t know you were a commando kind of guy, Bruce.” Clint smirked.

  
“The other guy destroys them so much I don’t bother anymore.”

  
Bruce stared at his half hard cock, wondering what to do next. The pressure of his erection was pleasant and the warmth of Clint and Phil’s bodies made him shiver a little as he gradually relaxed.

  
“Take your time, Bruce.” Phil murmured, his breath ghosting across Bruce’s skin.

  
“What turns you on?” Clint asked.

  
“I don’t have many sexual turn ons. I usually clear my mind and don’t think of anything when I masturbate, kind of like when I meditate.”

  
“You got hard when Clint was fucking me.” Phil suggested.

  
Bruce blushed. “Because you’ve been so tense and then Clint fucked you and you looked like it was everything you’ve ever needed. I... kind of have a thing for watching people get what they need, you know.”

  
“So you have a kink for people getting their sexual and romantic needs met?”

  
Bruce’s stare was burning holes into the bedspread.

  
“I just like knowing that some part of that person’s soul or body or whatever is...satisfied. An itch that needed to be scratched was scratched. It doesn’t have to be a sexual itch. It can be like someone getting a hug who really needed the human contact. It just does something to me… I know that is weird. I mean, it’s not always a sexual response to it, most of the time, it’s like a feeling you get when you see two unlikely animal friends who got each other’s backs, you know?”

  
Clint laughed. “I do get what you mean, Bruce. It gives you pleasure to see others have pleasurable experiences.”

  
Bruce nodded.  
“So how about if Phil talks about how stressed he has been this week and how he needed someone else to be in control for a while?”

Phil was falling asleep, the combined warmth of his orgasm and Bruce’s body against his bringing him closer to sleep until he heard his name.  
“Yeah?” He murmured groggily.

  
“Tell Bruce in great detail how stressed you were this week and how frustrated you were when we started making out tonight.”

  
Phil blinked. “Fury’s been on my case for the past two weeks about finally coming back to work and he’s been dumping all of this ‘re-enter-the-work-place-after-injury’ paperwork on me. I’ve been staying long nights at headquarters to keep up with it. I was so exhausted today I fell asleep in a meeting with Fury. He sent me home to rest for the rest of the day. I’ve barely seen either of you all week and then I had to tell Clint that Fury wants me to go on a mission. I was so tired and frustrated. I’d barely touched Clint in two weeks and I hadn’t even seen you, Bruce. I know the stress was making me a little more pent-up than I usually would be but I really wanted both of you close. I wanted to feel safe for a while.”

  
Bruce’s hand had drifted to his cock during Phil’s explanation and was lightly touching himself.

  
“Then Clint started kissing me during the movie and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I needed to be taken out of my head.”

  
Bruce moaned, his fingers gently explored the skin around his cock and balls. He could feel how tight the skin was, how hard his cock felt.

  
“Touch yourself, Bruce.” Phil whispered. “I want you to come in my arms. I want to hold you and know you are feeling so good..”

  
Phil kissed Bruce’s neck. “It felt so good to come in your arms, Bruce. I felt so safe and protected and loved. It was exactly what I needed.”

  
Bruce moaned, his cock rock hard against his stomach. Bruce snuggled deeper into Phil and Clint’s arms, nuzzling and kissing their bare skin.

  
He started stroking, soft encouragement whispered in his ear by Phil.  
Clint and Phil caressed his body as he gripped his cock, squeezing a little and letting the gentle touches relax him. He started getting close, the pleasure building in his core, coiling tighter and tighter.

  
“Are you close, Bruce?” Clint murmured against Bruce’s thigh.

  
“Let go, Bruce. I want to feel you come in my arms.” Phil coaxed.

  
Bruce’s orgasm burst over him in warm, sweet waves. The tension pulsed out of his body leaving pleasant, gentle tingles in its wake. Bruce sighed in contentment, his body relaxed and pliant.

  
The three of them spent a little more time kissing and touching before eventually succumbing to sleep. Even though they were expecting it, it still made Clint and Bruce’s hearts ache when they woke in the morning without Phil.

 

***  
After Phil departed for his mission, it didn’t take long for things to go to hell. Dr. Doom emerged with his newest even more advanced version of doombots and attacked the city.

  
Clint rolled his eyes when they got the call. “I had things to do today.”

  
“What things?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

  
“None of your business. Clint things.”

  
“So shooting things and jerking off.”

  
“Is that what you think of me? We’ve been through stuff together, Natasha. Serious stuff.”

  
Natasha rolled her eyes. “Idiot.” Only Clint could hear the exasperated fondness in her voice.

  
“Hey super assassin duo, quit arguing like an old married couple and get suited up! We have some lame robots and their lame robot overlord to embarrass!” Tony yelled as he ensconced himself in the Iron Man suit.

  
“If he’s married to anyone, it’s Coulson.” Natasha grumbled under her breath so only Clint could hear.

  
“I’m in a threeway marriage with Freckles and Phil.” Clint corrected.

  
“Oh, yeah!” Natasha smirked. “How’s that going?”

  
“It’s alright.” Clint blushed.

  
Even with Phil away, things were OK. Clint may have been spending a lot more time in the lab near Bruce, much to Tony’s annoyance, but other than that.  
Of course, Clint spoke too soon.  
***  
The battle raged for hours. Clint started the fight perched on top of a building, firing at the doombots from a distance as they flew by, using his explosive arrows. He managed to damage a few of them but none of the Avengers really made much of a dent in the robots or Dr. Doom himself except for Hulk.  
Until Dr. Doom hit him with some kind of experimental weapon. Hulk went berserk, roaring and smashing everything in sight with none of his usual caution for civilian life. Clint leaped through the wreckage, approaching Hulk.

  
“Jade Jaws, hey, over here, it’s me!” Clint waved his arms and Hulk paused in his rampage to glance over at him.

  
“Calm down, buddy! You’re scaring everyone.”

  
Hulk didn’t seem to understand his words. Fear sparked through Clint’s body.

  
“Come on, Jolly green, it’s me Cupid.”

  
Hulk frowned and then threw his head back and roared. He swung a giant, green hand and smacked Clint in the stomach, flinging him through the air.  
Clint hit the concrete and everything went black.  
***

 

The news channels were all replaying the footage of the battle. The Hulk’s rampage through downtown through New York, gnashing his teeth and smashing skyscrapers. Frightened people attempted to flee the destruction and Bruce could see that some of them were hurt in the chaos.

  
“You know it wasn’t your fault right?” Clint announced, dropping onto the couch next to Bruce.

  
Bruce snorted.  
“It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. I’ve been lazy.”

  
Clint frowned. “Lazy? I think you mean living your life. Hulk was only rampaging because of whatever the fuck that machine blasted at him. He wouldn’t have been that way if it wasn’t for Dr. Doom’s stupid invention.”

  
“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t be out there! I’m not exactly avoiding trouble! How long before Dr. Doom or some other villain invents something that makes me hurt any of you. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that. Hell, I already almost killed you today.”

  
“You would never hurt any of us, Hulk or no Hulk.” Clint murmured, resting a hand on Bruce’s arm. “And you didn’t almost kill me. I just have some bruises.”

  
“You can’t say that without a doubt. I thought I could do good. I thought I could make up for all the damage I’ve done but I’ve just made it all worse. I’m not meant to be here. I’m not meant to be a superhero.”

  
The news show in the background returned from their commercial break to a reporter interviewing General Ross. Bruce’s blood ran cold.

  
Clint slid his hand down Bruce’s arm to entwine their fingers.

  
On the TV, General Ross yelled, “The Hulk is a menace and it is about time that monster was locked up where it belongs. This battle just proves how dangerous and unpredictable it is.”

  
Clint gently squeezed Bruce’s hand. “JARVIS, turn off-”

  
“No!!” Bruce burst out. “I need to hear it. I can’t pretend anymore.”

  
“Bruce, he is not a monster and neither are you!” Clint pleaded.

  
Bruce shook his head. “You don’t understand. You never will.”

  
Bruce ran out of the room, ignoring Clint’s shouts to come back. Clint tried to follow him but JARVIS had put Bruce’s apartment on lock down and wasn’t opening it, even for Clint.

  
Clint sat down outside of his door against the wall. After an hour or so with no sound from inside the apartment, he fell asleep.  
***

  
When Clint woke up in the morning, the door to Bruce’s apartment was open. A sense of dread crept up in his body. He knocked on the door and called out to Bruce with no answer.

  
Bruce didn’t have that many possessions but his room was neatly arranged, bed made and Bruce’s tattered paperbacks removed from the nightstand. Fancy suits given to him by Tony hung in the closet but his favorite worn leather jacket and handful of wrinkled button up shirts and trousers were gone.

  
“JARVIS, when did Bruce leave?” Clint murmured.

  
“A few hours ago, Agent Barton.”

  
“Do you know where he was going?”

  
“I do not know for sure but I venture somewhere in Asia.”

  
Clint sighed. “That really narrows it down.”

  
Clint hurried down to Tony’s workshop and banged on the door. Through the window, Tony was blasting AC/DC and intently studying simulations hovering in the air around him.

  
“JARVIS, please tell Tony I’m here.” Clint shouted over the music.

  
The music abruptly stopped and the door unlocked.

  
“Hey Clint, fancy seeing you here!” Tony stepped out of the circle of floating simulations and wandered over to the coffeemaker stashed in a corner.

  
“Tony..” Clint started and then his throat closed up. The words wouldn’t come out. He felt tears creeping into his eyes and he blinked furiously.

  
“I know, birdbrain. JARVIS told me.”

  
“We have to...can you find him?”

  
Tony sighed, hitting the side of the taped together coffeemaker and it gave a strangled gurgle as it bubbled to life.  
  
“Nobody can find Bruce if he doesn’t want to be found. I made microchips for my suits so I could be found even if they were broken and JARVIS was down. I offered to put one in Hulk’s stretchy pants and Bruce practically killed me for suggesting it. I didn’t want to make him feel like he had traded being hunted for a shiny Stark Industries cage, you know.”

  
Clint figured that was true but he’d maintained a faint hope. He sank down onto a lab bench and buried his head in his hands.

  
“He’ll be fine. He’s smart.” Tony said.

  
Clint shook his head. “What if...Phil and I were another cage for him? What if we made everything worse?”

  
Tony groaned, running a grease covered hand through his hair. “It is too early for this conversation, Legolas.”

  
“It’s 10am.”

  
“On Tuesday?”

  
“It’s Friday.”

  
“Wonderful. Listen, Barton, I am not the world’s expert on emotions and feelings so maybe go cry on Cap’s shoulder but I think Bruce Banner can tell a fucking cage when he sees it.”  
***

Bruce slipped back into his old habits with practiced ease. He abandoned all of the identification that S.H.I.E.L.D. already knew about and brought out the fake passport with a completely different name he’d made when he first moved into Avengers tower in case he had to flee. He bought plane tickets with his Stark Industries issued credit card to one destination and flew somewhere else entirely, paying for that flight with cash, and dressing in completely different clothes than his usual wrinkled professor look. He left behind all of his Stark Industries devices; his tablet and phone, the Hulk pants Tony made him. He didn’t even have to make any big cash withdrawals from his account. He’d made smaller ones over the first few months he’d been at the tower, little amounts no more than 50 or 60 dollars, saving all of it in his escape bag in the back of his closet.

It had never felt quite this cowardly before, running away. The further he got from the tower, the further he got from his friends and the safety he’d come to cherish so much, the more Bruce’s heart felt like it was shattering into millions of pieces; too small to put back together. He kept telling himself it was for the best, that Clint and Phil would be happier without him around to hold them back but really he just couldn’t put them in danger. He knew he loved them both deep down but admitting that was just out of the question. He could barely think it without having a panic attack. As much as it hurt, it was better this way.

  
When he arrived at his final destination, Bruce found a room in a cheap hostel, making a note to look for an apartment the next day.  
In the first week, Bruce found a cheap apartment that allowed him to pay in cash and a quiet job in a nearby clinic that needed knowledge and help too much to ask many questions. He worked and helped people and didn’t get too close to anyone. He tried to ignore the way his heart cracked a little more every day, how sometimes right before he became fully conscious he imagined Clint and Phil were asleep next to him.

  
Missing Clint with a fierce ache was not a surprise to Bruce but the intensity with which he missed Phil made him pause. He missed his calm competence, his easy company, the genuine smile he and Clint could tease out of him, the care that he had with Clint, and how that care had shifted to Bruce too.  
He missed being held and kissed and touched by people that would never push his boundaries or take advantage. He missed feeling safe and loved.  
He knew Ross was on the lookout for him. Maybe Tony could have protected him, maybe not. Bruce was sure of nothing anymore. He knew his best shot at avoiding Ross was keeping his head down and staying far away from the Avengers.

 

Bruce kept his guard up, even after three months of no sign of Ross. He maintained his routine, paying for everything in cash, switching towns after a few weeks, and systematically checking each room he rented for bugs. He kept no electronic devices on him and he was friendly but didn’t make any effort to keep up friendships.

  
But one day, in a crowded marketplace, three and a half months after he fled Stark Tower, he was cornered.

  
“Hello, Banner.” Bruce froze, that familiar voice he heard in his nightmares, coming from behind him.

  
“You can come with me quietly or I can blow this whole marketplace to pieces.”

  
“And the army will let you just kill of these innocent people?”

  
“The army is financing me. They are willing to contain the threat by any means necessary.”

  
“You realize that this is a terrible idea, right?”

  
“People will get hurt if I let you go free, Banner. It’s your fault, whether this marketplace gets blown up or not. Maybe think about that while you make up your mind.”

  
Before Bruce could reply, he felt a piercing pain in his neck. He only had a second to think “Oh shit!” before everything went black.

  
***  
Two weeks after Bruce split, Phil returned to the tower. After showering and changing into more comfortable clothes, he found Clint in the archery range, shooting target after target without hesitation.

  
Phil sat down in an unobtrusive spot and watched Clint shoot for awhile. His body was a masterpiece of movement. Phil could (and had) watched Clint practice for hours.  
He could wait Clint out today.

  
After another hour of practicing, Clint unstrung his bow and gently put it into it’s holding rack. He walked over to where Phil was sitting and collapsed to his feet, putting his head in Phil’s lap. Phil combed his fingers through Clint’s hair. They sat in silence for a long time, just taking comfort from each other’s presence.  
“I’m surprised Fury didn’t send you on another mission right away.” Clint mumbled, his eyes closed, face buried in Phil’s pants.

  
“I think he was getting tired of you moping around headquarters and scaring the new recruits.”

  
“Why wasn’t I good enough?”

  
Phil gently scratched Clint’s head. “It was all Ross and Dr. Doom’s fault. He didn’t leave because of you unless he was doing it in a misguided attempt to keep us safe.”

  
“Fury knows he’s gone.”

  
“S.H.I.E.L.D. managed to wrangle presidential pardon for Bruce of all the ‘crimes’ he supposedly committed as the Hulk. He’s technically a free man now.”  
Clint jerked in surprise. “When did that happen?”

  
“It just recently came through. I was going to tell him when I got back.”

  
“We have to tell him. You know he’s probably ass deep in guilt right now.”

  
Phil sighed. “My heart wants to track him down but my brain says he needs some space. Let’s leave him be for a little bit. Then, we can gently reach out to him, let him know even if he doesn’t want to come back now that he always has a home with us if he wants it.”

  
“You’d be OK with that?”

  
“I love him. I love what all three of us have.”

  
“Me too.”

  
“Is there any way…I just… I feel like something bad is going to happen to him.”

  
“I know. I tried to look for him, just to see if he was alright, but he doesn’t want to be found. We have to let it go for now. I am keeping an eye on some channels though and anything if shows up, I’ll be the first to know.”

  
Clint nuzzled Phil’s leg. “I’m glad you’re safe.” He murmured. Phil’s fingers tightened a little in his hair.

  
“Don’t worry, I haven’t abandoned Bruce. We’ll figure this out.”  
***  
***  
Ross sedated and transported Bruce to a remote army facility. When Bruce awoke many hours later, he was tied to an examination table with steel restraints inside of what looked like a completely steel cage. It almost felt like a relief to finally be living his worst nightmare again. Now, he could stop worrying and just work on surviving. Or if worst came to worst, hoping that whatever experiment Ross was planning managed to kill him, even when Bruce himself had failed.  
From what he could see of the room, it looked like a prison cell with a variety of lab equipment.

  
An IV full of something, a drug of some kind, dripped into Bruce’s arm. Hs head pounded and he couldn’t feel the usual well of rage under his skin; probably some kind of adrenaline suppressor.

  
Probably a high dose to make him feel this drowsy. He’d never had much luck with it before in experiments.

  
The screech of a key in a lock echoed through the room and the door swung open.

  
“Ahhh Banner, you’re awake. Your metabolism is even quicker than I anticipated.”

  
Ross loomed over the examination table. A man in a lab coat stood behind him, peering at the data on the machines near Bruce.

  
“You’ve eluded me for an impressive amount of time after Harlem. I guess that is the benefit of being Stark’s new pet scientist. Unfortunately for you, the army still knows, I still know, that you are a danger to the world. It’s only a matter of time before the monster kills innocent people. No matter how hard you work at controlling it, the only thing it knows is anger.”

  
The scientist came over to the IV and replaced the bag with a new one filled with a bright green liquid.

  
“My scientists have been developing something special for you, Banner.” Ross continued.

  
“As long as you are alive, the world is in danger. It’s my job to neutralize the threat.”

  
Bruce felt his brain going foggy again. The room swam around him. Ross was a giant, smug blob above him.

  
“So we are going to learn, what kills the Hulk. From what I hear, you’ve already researched this but in our case, we aren’t trying to separate you. We want you both dead.”

  
Ross grinned. “So I’m going to need full cooperation from you. We are going to test if we can kill you before your body can repair itself. I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

  
Bruce blinked. He knew he should be panicking but the drug was dulling his entire body.

  
“Get some rest, Banner. You are going to have a busy day tomorrow.” Ross laughed to himself and stalked out of the room. The scientist checked Bruce’s vitals again and then followed Ross out of the cell.

  
Bruce distantly heard the door clank shut as he faded into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story got out of hand. Chapter five will up very soon because it is 98% done. I promise this time! Also, I promise that this story has a happy ending.


	5. Let it all Unbreak You

Four months passed. Phil and Tony, via JARVIS, continued monitoring communication channels and on Tony’s part, hacking into government files to keep an eye out for Bruce. Phil maintained his position that they shouldn’t go dragging Bruce back to the Tower if they located him. Clint mostly agreed with him. He knew he would be pissed if Phil dragged him away from a bolthole if he needed space. Clint just hated to think of Bruce, wracked with guilt and self-loathing, alone somewhere with no friends thinking he somehow didn’t deserve comfort.  


Clint checked the communication channels every day. One day, Clint was practicing in the archery range when JARVIS interrupted his thoughts.   


“Agent Barton, I apologize for interrupting your practice but I have some information that I feel you need to know.”  


“Lay it on me, Jarv.”  


“I have been monitoring the communication channels for Agent Coulson and Sir and something odd has appeared. Sir has an alert for his weapons if they are found somewhere so he can destroy them. An alert came up this morning that his weapons were found in an army facility. Sir had previously made sure to eliminate all weapons in the possession of the US Government and an alert has not come up for those weapons in over three years. The army facility that supposedly has the weapons appears to be under the command of General Thaddeus Ross.”   


Panic and dread rolled through Clint’s body.   


“Who else did you alert about this?”  


“Yourself, Sir, and Agent Coulson. Agent Coulson is on his way to your location at this moment.”  


“Don’t tell anyone else, JARVIS.”  


“Of course, Agent Barton.”  


The door to the Archery range swung open and Phil entered. “Clint..” He started and Clint nodded. “Do you think he has Bruce?”  


“I don’t know but I suggest we go to this facility and look for ourselves.”  


“I agree but Tony is probably flipping his shit right now. He’s probably half way there in the suit and we need to be careful about this."   


“Sir is currently asking me to plot a course for the facility. I am attempting to deter him.”  


Clint and Phil dashed out of the archery range and into the elevator. When they emerged in Tony’s workshop, he was already in the suit. His faceplate was up and he was shouting at JARVIS.   


“They are my weapons and my responsibility!” Tony yelled.   


“Tony, stop!” Clint shouted, running towards him.   


“No, fuck you Barton, I am not going to be the merchant of death anymore!”  


Clint threw his hands up in supplication. “No one is asking you not to destroy those weapons. Believe me, I would be fucking pissed if I were you but right now, we have to make sure he doesn’t have Bruce. We can’t risk letting him know we are onto him.”  


“All the more reason to fly over there and beat Ross’ face in!”   


“And we will beat his face in. But first we need a plan.”  


Phil slid into his Agent Coulson mode immediately. “I’ll call my team. I think they can help.” He whipped his phone out and strode off to a corner of the workshop to talk.   


Tony ran to his computer, shedding the suit as he went. “J, bring up the army’s database. I’m going to hack into the bitch and find this facilities server.”   


Tony became engrossed in his work and Clint felt utterly useless. He debated calling Natasha or Kate but he knew Natasha was deep undercover and he didn't want to drag kate into this mess if he didn't need to, no matter how much she would want to help.   


Clint decided his best course of action was to get back to his archery practice.   


*** 

Bruce measured his days with pain.   


It wasn’t the first time he’d been forced to use this unit of measurement. If Ross got his way, it would be the last and Bruce was beginning to think that might not be so bad.   


Thus far, Bruce’s body was repairing itself, even without transforming into the Hulk. He’d been exposed to ever increasing doses of the anti-adrenaline drug which Bruce kept suspecting would stop working any day now. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in Ross’ clutches but they’d already tried two experiments to kill him.   


The first one had been an injection of a cocktail of outrageous amounts of lethal drugs. It’d taken Bruce’s body what felt like days of writhing agony for his body to filter the toxins out of his blood. His veins had felt like they were on fire and his fever raged for days. His muscles spasmed and he’d spent what a long time throwing up. At least Ross had adjusted the table so Bruce was upright for a while during the vomiting so he wouldn’t choke. Choking would be too easy and unsatisfying for Ross.   


Bruce was still recovering from the second experiment which had involved breaking every bone in his body at the same time. Ross had apparently stolen some tech from HYDRA or something, but he’d used some kind of laser to beam over Bruce’s body and snapped all of his bones.   


His bones knit themselves back together but it was a slow process. He could move his fingers and toes again but was restrained too much to test his knees or elbows.   


Bruce was fed through another IV in his other arm and a catheter was inserted in him to allow him to go to the bathroom.   


The doors of Bruce’s prison whooshed open and Ross came in, backed with his usual team of scientists.   


“Hello, Banner.” Ross smirked. Bruce wanted to punch that smirk right off his face but he couldn’t feel the Hulk even grumbling in him anymore. It was more upsetting than Bruce anticipated.   


One of the scientists took Bruce’s hand and began bending his fingers and wrist to see how they were healing. They carefully went through Bruce’s entire body, releasing one restraint at a time as they went and Ross babbled on above them.   


“We have a special treat for you today.”   


The doors whooshed open and a group of men entered, rolling a flatbed behind them with some large boxes stacked on it.   


“You remember when your friend Stark worked with the army, don’t you?”   


Bruce blinked. Tony had told him he’d had all of his weapons destroyed.   


“These are the most powerful guns Stark ever developed. I’ve been saving them for you, Banner. It’s been hard work hiding them from Stark but it will be worth it.”   


Ross rested a hand on the stack of boxes. “My scientists made a machine that can channel the energy from all of these guns into one blast. It’s supposed to be strong enough to level a whole city. We tested it with some inferior army issued weapons and the damage went through three concrete walls and a steel barrier. So I am very excited to see what the machine can do with these magnificent creations.”  


The scientists finished strapping Bruce back to the table and Ross patted the boxes with a fond smile on his face.   


“It will take some time to modify the guns to fit the machine but I think it will be worth it in the end.”   


Ross exited the room, taking the scientists with him. They left the flatbed in the corner of the room.   


***  


Less than 24 hours after JARVIS interrupted Clint’s archery practice, Phil, who had been on the phone on and off for most of those hours, returned to Tony’s workshop where Stark and Clint had been hacking into the army database. Or rather, Tony with the help of JARVIS had been hacking. It was taking way longer than anticipated. There was much swearing and fist banging on Tony’s part.   


Clint had been monitoring the communication channels and evaluating the data already collected. It painted a rather grim picture.   


Ross had some kind of top secret project out in the desert and judging by the spike in activity over the past week or so, something was going down. Knowing Ross, it was something awful.   


Clint prayed Bruce wasn’t a part of it but he was losing hope on that.   


“I’m sending my team in.” Phil declared as he strode into the room.  


“And all of us, right?” Clint answered.   


“Too dangerous.”  


“Too dan-really? Too fucking dangerous!?! We can go undercover and run our asses all over St. Petersburg for the Russian Mafia but we can’t fucking rescue our partner?” Clint yelled.   


“I know, believe me, but-”  


Clint was not finished. “We can save New York from a crazy Norse god and his alien friends but we can’t free Bruce from the grasp of the army? He’s a goddamn free man now! He’s free, Phil, he’s not the fucking property of the fucking goddamn shit army anymore!”   


“We can’t go in, Clint, Ross will be onto us right away! It has to be my team! Agent May and the others are the only people outside of this room besides Natasha that I trust right now with this mission. Whatever is going on there, they can let us know and take Ross and his accomplices Into S.H.I.E.L.D. custody. They’ll rescue Bruce if he’s there.”  


Tony, uncharacteristically silent through the exchange, finally spoke up.   


“I’m destroying my weapons myself. As soon as your team gets Ross and saves Bruce.”   


Phil nodded. “My team is heading in now. They should reach the facility in a few hours. Our job now is to keep up the hacking and monitor communications. We’ll keep a plane on stand-by as a last resort.”  


Clint buried his head in his hands. Phil approached him from the side so Clint could see him. He wrapped an arm around Clint’s shoulder and they leaned against each other.   


"It will be OK." Phil murmured, rubbing Clint's back."  


****  


Scientists worked 14 hour days assembling the machine. In his drug induced fog, Bruce watched Ross’ assistants modify the machine for Stark’s weapons. It needed more power to fuel the advanced guns than the army issued ones. One of the scientists had constructed a crude copy of the arc reactor but a person didn’t need to be as smart as Bruce to know that it would be impossible to even get sort of close to Tony’s tech. It didn’t much matter though because the machine would still be painful and Bruce would possibly still be dead at the end of this experiment.   


Bruce’s thoughts were only of Clint and Phil. He’d decided if these were actually to be his last few days as himself, he should try to think of good things. Sometimes he thought the pain of missing them was worse than whatever Ross could do to him. He was probably being melodramatic on that one but damn, it was a close call some days.   


One day (Bruce had completely lost track of time) after only maybe an hour or two of work, the scientists stepped back to admire the machine. It looked like a massive ugly ray gun out of a bad sci-fi movie to Bruce but the scientists looked pleased or rather relieved. Bruce felt a tiny surge of gratitude that he would be soon be dead instead of still alive but employed as a scientist contracted by Ross.   


The scientists started testing the machine on concrete and steel. Bruce watched as they adjusted the machine and did test runs on dead animals with Ross observing.   


At 10% strength, the machine easily blasted through the cows in an almost perfect circle.   


Ross grinned. “It’s ready.”   


And then Bruce was positioned under the stupid fake looking ray gun and one of the scientists called out “initializing 10% trial on subject 2916.” And everything went black and silent.   


He heard voices above him; muffled words that sounding like the adults from Peanuts. Bruce attempted to crack an eye open. He caught a brief glimpse of fluorescent light before pain bloomed in his head so sharp, he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Slowly, the voices became clearer.   


“-vitals are stabilizing, although slowly. He should be awake in a few hours. Remarkable.”  


“Tomorrow, we’ll try 20%.” Ross grunted.   


“We won’t be there by tomorrow. We need more energy.”  


“You have two days.” Ross barked before striding out of the room.   


The scientists tinkered in the opposite room. Bruce had become used to the sounds of their work. Though, today there was a third scientist where there were usually only two.   


The three of them were having a whispered conversation and the new one nodded briskly, leaving the huddle to approach Bruce.   


The scientist, a lady with warm brown eyes and her hair tied up off her face, lifted Bruce’s arm, placing a stethoscope on the crook of his elbow.   


“Tomorrow.” The scientist muttered under her breath.   


Bruce blinked.   


The scientist attached a blood pressure cuff to Bruce’s arm and leaned in unnecessarily close to tighten it. “Tomorrow. We’re friends of Phil.” Bruce registered that the scientist had a British accent.   


She finished checking Bruce’s vitals on a clipboard without another word and strode out of the room, without a second glance from the other two scientists, engrossed in their work.   


The next day as the scientists were preparing for the second test on Bruce, he almost wondered if he had hallucinated the words from the supposed friend of Phil. A sharp ache stabbed at his heart.   


Ross strode into the room with two soldier bodyguards flanking him, guns at the ready.   


“Is the machine ready?” Ross barked, glaring at the two scientists.   


“Just about.” managed one of them.   


Suddenly, there was a yelp from the hallway and Bruce thought he heard a muffled gunshot.   


A woman he’d never seen before busted the door down followed by two men with guns.   


“What the-?!” Ross managed to yell before the woman punched him and he fell to the ground. The three of them made short work of the scientists; knocking them out. The woman gave whispered instructions to the two men and they darted out of the room.   


“Dr. Banner, can you walk?” The woman asked, her face swimming into view.   


“Maybe?”  


Bruce tried to sit up and everything went black.   


When Bruce woke up, he was lying in a bed. A glass of water sat on the table next to the bed and Bruce gratefully drained it. He was attached to an IV drip but was otherwise unrestrained.   


The door opened and the British lady scientist came in.   


“Oh, Dr. Banner you’re awake!” The scientist chirped in a British accent.   


“Where am I?”   


“You’re on the Quinjet. Agent Coulson sent us to rescue you. My name is Jemma Simmons. I’m a S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist and the closest person we have to a doctor at the moment.”   


“Good, I didn’t imagine you.”   


Jemma smiled. “Yes. You’ve been out for almost 15 hours. You are severely dehydrated and will probably be in withdraw from the drugs you were on soon.”  


The door swung open and the woman who had dragged him out of Ross’ building entered. Now that Bruce was mostly coherent, he could see the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the shoulder of her jacket.   


“Get some rest, Doctor.” Jemma gave Bruce a nervous smile and swiftly retreated from the room.   


“Good to see you awake, Dr. Banner.” The woman said, standing at the end of the bed. Agent May; her name surfaced out of Bruce’s memory of Phil’s work talk.   


“What are you going to do with me?” Bruce blurted out.   


She stared at him. “We’re taking wherever you want to go. You’re a free man. Ross kidnapped an American citizen. He’ll be rotting in prison for a long time.” Bruce blinked. “What?”  


“Our team caught Ross as he tried to escape. He’s being sent to prison as we speak. Coulson convinced Director Fury to advocate for you after the Incident. The president gave you a pardon. You’re free now and under no obligation to return to New York. We are on our way to DC for a short break before we return to the field. We can drop you off anywhere you want on our way.”  


“He..Coulson really did that for me?”  


“He does what he can where he can. Plus, he’s always hated Ross a lot.”  


Agent May moved to leave. “Don’t feel obligated to go back to New York because Coulson did that for you. He wanted to make sure you knew that. Let me know what you want to do.”   


Agent May left Bruce to his thoughts.   


Even flying at Quinjet speed, it still took about 10 hours to fly back to the US. Bruce didn’t have a phone anymore but Agent May told him of every message from Tony and Clint that came to the jet.   


Bruce didn’t know what to say back but told her to tell them he was fine and returning to the tower soon. Bruce was terrified at facing Clint and Phil but he also desperately wanted to see them. He spent most of the remaining time on the jet reading and trying to keep his emotions under control. He was still waiting to wake up and realize he had dreamed his entire escape from Ross’ clutches. Agent May showed him the news, which was pretty much showing Ross’ imprisonment 24/7. It relaxed Bruce a little to see Ross’ mugshot, looking like he had been beaten up pretty bad.   


When they reached New York, the Quinjet landed on the roof of the tower. Phil was waiting on the roof. Bruce couldn’t see Clint or Tony standing anywhere. Agent May accompanied Bruce off the jet.   


“As you can see, I brought him back in one piece, of his own volition.”  


Phil nodded. “Thank you Agent May. I’ll owe you one.”  


May shook her head. “You don’t owe me. Not for this.”  


She rested a hand briefly on Phil’s shoulder and walked back into the jet without another word.   


The quinjet left, leaving Bruce and Phil staring at each other.   


“I’m sorry.” Bruce blurted out. “I just...I couldn’t see more people get hurt because of me.”   


“Bruce, if any of us get hurt, Tony, Clint or myself, it won’t be because of you. We’ve all been hurt already and you didn’t have anything to do with any of that. We all love you and we choose to be with you.”   


Phil sighed. “I just..I’m sorry if we made you feel like you were in a cage again.”  


Phil stepped closer, still giving Bruce plenty of space, but Bruce suddenly couldn’t stand not touching him. He reached out and pulled Phil into his arms.   


“You saved me.” He murmured. “You got the president to pardon me and Ross locked up. You are the opposite of a cage.”   


Phil relaxed in his arms.   


“I missed you so fucking much.” Bruce whispered and kissed Phil fiercely.   


“Bruce!” came a strangled cry from the roof entrance and Clint emerged running towards them. Bruce broke away from Phil in time to be swept into Clint’s arms.   


“You’re an idiot.” Clint announced as he clung to Bruce. They kissed and Bruce blindly reached for Phil’s hand pulling him against them and wrapping an arm around Phil’s waist. Clint dislodged one of his arms from Bruce and wrapped it around Phil too, his fingers entwining with Bruce’s against Phil’s back.   


Bruce felt the tension leave his body as he relaxed against them.   


“I know.”   


Tony pounced on Bruce as soon as he entered the common room. Natasha and Steve were there too. After Tony finished making increasingly more elaborate promises to end Ross and make sure he never saw the light of day again, to Bruce’s surprise, Steve immediately got to his feet and embraced him.   


“I’m glad you’re safe.”   


Phil and Clint had prepared dinner for the team and they all sat down to eat. Tony instructed JARVIS to put on “something fun for forgetting your problems.” JARVIS started Emperor’s New Groove. Bruce wasn’t very hungry but he managed to eat a little of the soup Phil had made.   


He fell asleep halfway through the movie and woke up a little when he was scooped up in Clint’s arms. He nuzzled his neck, closing his eyes and breathing in Clint’s scent. Clint and Phil helped Bruce change into pajamas and brush his teeth. The three of them climbed into bed with Bruce in the middle; Phil on one side of him, brushed close enough that Bruce could feel the warmth of his body while still being able to move; and Clint on his other side with his face buried in Bruce’s t-shirt. Bruce entwined his fingers with one of Clint’s free hands. Phil caught Bruce’s other hand and brushed kisses against his knuckles.   


“Love you, Bruce.” He whispered against Bruce’s skin.   


“Love you guys.” Clint murmured into Bruce’s shirt.   


“I love you both too.” Bruce said as they all drifted off to sleep.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end! I hope you all enjoyed the story! Bruce/Clint/Phil is my favorite pairing so I will be writing more of them!

**Author's Note:**

> The second chapter is almost done so it should be up soon! Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
